


Step Out of the Sun

by unfotunateNoldo



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But everyone thinks he is, Developing Relationship, Eldritch, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Leo Valdez Is Not Dead, M/M, Nico di Angelo Needs a Hug, Nico di Angelo and Will Solace are Dorks, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Social Anxiety, Therapy, Will Solace is a Ball of Sunshine, Will Solace is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24535456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfotunateNoldo/pseuds/unfotunateNoldo
Summary: Nico di Angelo thought things might just get better for a moment, and then he fucked it all up. He should have known he would, because he always has. So he throws himself into his work and tries his hardest to get over himself, but it won't leave him alone. He's so embarrassed he doesn't even show his face at Camp Half-Blood for two whole months, not until a new threat and a panicked decision force him to confront his friends and realize that they are, in fact, there for him. Kind of a three days fic in that the canon technically starts there. Rated for smut anticipated in later chapters.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 17
Kudos: 99





	1. Blade, Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Song inspo: Waving Through a Window (as if it wasn't already obvious)

Nico turned his blade over in his hands, watching the light play across the surface. Stygian Iron reacted differently to light than any other metal he’d ever seen. The light didn’t exactly...play—that wasn’t the right word for it, but it didn’t get absorbed, either. The blade wasn’t a void, or anything like that. Any light that hit it went sort of...sideways, into the blade, and when it emerged again it was different, like the Underworld essence infused into the blade had left a stain on it. It wasn’t easy to notice. Most demigods and monsters just got headaches from staring at it if they weren’t too busy cowering away, but Nico, perhaps because of a gift from his father, could see what was really going on there.

The blade didn’t abhor the light. It didn’t destroy it; it didn’t absorb it; but it did bend and alter it, making it something different, which Nico always thought was strangely beautiful. If he looked closely enough, and for long enough, he could begin to discern shapes in the labyrinth of darkened light. He was never quite sure what the shapes were, but on occasion the fancy struck him that they were images of the stars, the constellations of the gods, or even images of the other half-bloods he knew.

Not his friends, no. That wasn’t a good idea. Children of Hades had never been well-served by making rash decisions. When the shapes in his sword began to look like his—companions—that was when Nico put the blade away. He didn’t need to think about them.

_I’ve done enough thinking about them for a lifetime._

Nico sheathed the blade and stood from his bed. It was luxurious, as only a child of the god of earthly riches might have, a four-poster array with black satin sheets and actual curtains that he could close. It made things rather impractically dark when he slept in it, but that wasn’t often, anyway. The rest of the cabin, thankfully, was less bedecked—Pluto was much more about the wealth than his Greek counterpart—but still comfortable. Greek Fire torches burned on the walls, casting a soft green glow over the living space, which boasted a leather couch and two chintz armchairs that crowded around a smart TV. The TV had a Switch hooked up to it, and Nico had one of those baskets the Demeter kids used for picking strawberries stashed behind it to hold his slowly growing game collection. For the moment, Nico flopped down onto the couch and pulled up Mario Kart, which was the perfect thinking game—just colorful enough to distract him from his situation while allowing him the space to plan his next move.

Beyond the living space, a kitchenette was tucked behind a grey stone wall next to a small bathroom, and the walls around, made of the same grey stone, were hung with a variety of tapestries depicting the Underworld (not the Fields of Punishment or any of the roads to Tartarus, of course) and one very out-of-place-seeming poster for Wicked, the Broadway show (not the book—Nico hated the book). Nico left it up mostly out of habit, and because he was certain no one else came in the cabin.

No one at camp even knew Nico was here right now. He hadn’t shown his face at camp in two months. Not since...the _incident_.

He felt a little dramatic, calling it “The Incident,” but there just wasn’t a better name. He could call it the “Nico di Angelo is a creepy monster child who doesn’t deserve love or happiness parade,” but that would take far too many syllables. “The Incident” was a nice shorthand.

It had all started with that bloody son of Apollo, Will Solace. Solace had claimed that he didn’t think Nico was a monster, but Nico could read someone like Solace like a book. All children of Apollo were the same, wearing their emotions plastered over their entire bodies like people wanted to look at that all the time. And he was so... _cheerful_ , upbeat, positive, whatever you want to call it. It was annoying. There had just been a war. People had died, and Solace acted like it was Christmas Day the entire time Nico was stuck in the infirmary (well, almost). If he hadn’t been so weak at the time, he would’ve booked it out of there the moment Solace had turned his back.

_It didn’t help how infectious Will’s smile was, or the way his shaggy hair fell so adorably over his forehead._

It didn’t bear well to think about that now. Yes, as a gay dude, Nico could see how Will was, objectively, very attractive. Quite his type, in point of fact. But, despite his ability to see, Nico wouldn’t allow his thoughts to move beyond sight. There was no point in it; no point in getting invested in another guy who probably didn’t like him back. He hadn’t finally gotten over Percy _and_ come out to himself and his—fellow demigods—just to get hung up on someone new.

That was partly why Nico didn’t show himself around camp. The moment the incident had happened, he had thrown himself into his work, only shadow-traveling back in to the Hades cabin once every week or so, then going to pick up his next assignment anonymously and under cover of night from Chiron’s desk, taking a well-earned rest in his admittedly very comfortable emo-Donald-Trump bed, and shadow-traveling out again before dawn properly crept into the sky. If Chiron had a problem with it, Chiron would have said something.

Thankfully, there was no shortage of assignments. Gaea’s rise had caused a huge amount of unrest across the country, with hundreds of monster infestations popping up wherever the Earth mother’s power had lingered a bit too long: a grove that played host to _Arai_ at night, an abandoned shopping mall in which a group of Lastrygonians had taken up residence, a school where a coven of dracaenae were posing as teachers. The entirety of September and most of October had been taken up by the comfortable routine of travel, scout, plan, and fight. Nico was used to fighting alone, and he was damn good at it. The Stygian Iron blade he bore wasn’t just something to gaze into in his spare moments. It was a hero’s weapon, even if the hero who wielded it was destined to do his work in the shadows.

Although the Hades cabin had no windows, Nico felt the dawn peeking out over the horizon outside. He felt it in the way the tingle over his skin that always came in the night, the hyper-awareness of his surroundings, faded into the more general noise of process and discard that all ADHD demigods grew used to. It was past time to go. He had spent too long ruminating on things best left alone until his next respite. He didn’t want anyone to come knocking. He knew they would, if he gave them a chance, and he knew it would only make things worse.

Nico finished his game (1st, of course—AI was easy pickings) and turned off the Switch, but he didn’t get up. Instead, he sank further into the depths of the cushions, feeling around for where the shadows were thickest, and, after making one final check to ensure he had everything with him, he reached out with his mind and pressed up against the shadow he was sitting in, willing it to open and enfold him like it had so many times before. His last thought as he slipped into the icy embrace of his couch cushions came unbidden to his mind: an indistinct image of messy blond hair and blue eyes crinkled in a smile. If he’d been in a different mood, a rarer mood, Nico might’ve felt a tear slip down his cheek at the thought; but he didn’t have a cheek for a tear to travel down right then, anyway.


	2. Routine, Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico goes off to handle his latest assignment, but something goes horribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, commented or left Kudos! Time to introduce some weirder elements!

In the routine Nico had developed, he had unwittingly given himself a lot of time to think. Being a mostly-loner, he was used to having only his thoughts for company, so initially this didn’t bother him all that much. Solitude was familiar territory, and even when the bad thoughts started creeping in as the routine became easier and easier, Nico had learned how to banish them, coming up with more complex plans and convoluted yet quite hilarious ways of killing monsters that would’ve made Leo proud—although he didn’t let himself think about Leo very often. Every time he did, he remembered the feeling he had watching the engineer vanish into the sky, the feeling of death that had grown so familiar to him. 

Still, sometimes, in the night around his little campfire, when the firelight echoed in his sword enough to summon the images of the other demigods who’d been on the quest to destroy Gaea, Nico had to admit a few things to himself, to open up some of the old wounds and poke around a bit.

Whenever he thought of that metaphor, the image of himself as a surgeon came to mind, tinkering around with his own exposed body, and sometimes, when he looked over, there was another face staring back at him, gloved and masked, but always the same face: always the face Nico didn’t want to see.

So, when Nico slipped out of the shadows of a gross-looking National Parks building on the edge of a beach on Lake Michigan, and he knew that he still had the entire day to relax before going to investigate the reports of a sea monster terrorizing mortal beachgoers, he started with an easier topic than the face of Will Solace appearing in his self-analytical visual metaphors.

_ I guess it’s time we admit something. Yeah, I wanted them to be my friends. Leo, Piper, Hazel, Frank, Jason, Annabeth, even Percy, hot-ass scum of the sea god that he is. I still want them to be my friends. There’s no getting around it, even if we’re not going to try to do anything about it. _

And he was definitely  _ not _ going to try to do anything about it.

_ Yeah, so what if it was kinda nice arguing with them on the Argo II? So what if it was a relief not to have to fight monsters single-handedly. Of course it was. I’m human—or, at least, partly human. We’re all supposed to be social creatures, right? Only sucks to suck at it, though. _

Nico didn’t go out on the beach that day. He didn’t even step into the sun very much if he could help it. He had a reputation to protect, after all, and being the “Ghost King” didn’t work so well if you looked like someone who frequents the beach.

He passed the time pretty well watching the mortals and analyzing himself, listening to his guilty pleasure soundtrack and even—gods forbid anyone else he knew  _ ever _ saw him like this—finding a deserted place where he could actually sing along. He was under no delusions that his voice was any good. He’d never actually recorded it to check, but he was no Apollo kid. Singing was just another outlet for him, as ritualistic as fighting monsters. It helped keep the loneliness away, helped keep him from dwelling on the fact that his—yes, his friends—were mostly out of reach, and anyway it was too late now to go back and try to explain things to them.

That night, Nico crept up toward the shore of Lake Michigan, which stretched out far enough north he could almost believe it was an ocean, except for the fact that he could  _ just _ make out the glimmer of city lights from Chicago to the northeast.

Gods, the sunset was beautiful here. The colors splayed out over the horizon like a dash of heavenly fire, the water beneath as serene and unbothered as the vaults of the dead under the Earth (except, you know, for the moaning and screaming). They were so different, but looked so oddly right together, more beautiful than either could have been on its own.

_ Where do I even get thoughts like that? _

Nico had a job to do. He hunkered down in the spot where the report had indicated the sea monster was most often seen from and waited. And while he waited, the stars came out and wheeled overhead, and Nico saw the constellation of Zoe Nightshade that Percy had pointed out to him on one night in mid August, before either of them had left, chasing her prey across the sky, and had a thought. He unsheathed his sword, and immediately saw in its depths a darkened image of the huntress, bow drawn, silver tiara blazing on her brow. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the image rippled, some channel in the shifting metal closing, and disappeared.

Right then, Nico heard a sound—a soft splash that didn’t quite mesh with the lapping of waves against the shore which his night-enhanced senses had attuned to. His gaze snapped silently to its source, and he saw, with dawning horror, a huge yet almost silent mass of mottled-grey flesh creeping towards him. A tangle of tentacles sprouted from beneath the gaping maw of the creature, which itself was dotted with single teeth, as if whatever insane DNA the creature had wasn’t feeling up to the task of mapping a proper mouth. Behind the front mass he could make out a huge slug-shaped tail whispering across the sand. His eyes could clearly make out, even in the tiny contrast that Artemis’s moon provided, rows of barbed hooks and suckers embedded in each tentacle. The monster slowly and silently dragged its bulk forward with these hooks, tens of arms at a time reaching out in perfect coordination and pulling the beast up onto the sand—towards him.

Even worse, it was looking at him, beady black eyes embedded in the vague fold of flesh that rose above its mouth-hole. Nico had never seen a monster like this before, never even heard of it in any myth, and it had almost gotten the drop on him as he sat there gushing over the fucking stars. Another minute, and he’d be dead.

Nico registered all of this information in the instant his eyes met the monster’s. In the next instant, his mind scrambled around for a solution, even a semi-relevant myth, but found nothing. Having failed that course of action, Nico spent the next instant defaulting to plan B: run. The monster spent that instant opening its maw even wider than it was before and beginning to force out its tooth-riddled mouth-flesh, which he saw was dripping some kind of inky liquid onto the sand.

His course of action determined, Nico reached for the shadows behind him just as the monster gave a bloodcurdling caterwaul and rushed toward him, moving much faster than he would have thought possible for a creature so large and misshapen. Nico felt the barrier made by the shadow of a clump of dunegrass press upon his awareness. It would have to do. He mentally prepared himself for the squeeze and forced open the barrier. The monster was only five feet away when he vanished.

There wasn’t any time in this journey for rumination. Nico knew the pain that would come from using such a patchy shadow, but the knowledge didn’t help him much as his essence was assaulted on all sides by the harsh edges of reality. It felt a little bit like being pushed through a cheese grater, except the grater blades were so cold your mind overcorrected and felt heat from them instead. Nico hadn’t even thought of a destination before he left, and he could barely focus on one now, picking the first that came to mind and latching onto it for fear of being lost in the space between, eternally tormented by his own ability to dissolve his mortal essence and fit it through spaces it really had no business being in.

After an eternity in the rushing darkness, Nico tumbled out of a wall and landed on a floor: muted blue stone, inset with abalone and pearl. He heard a fountain bubbling in the corner, and saw blue and sea-green sheeted bunks all around him. Before he could process any of this, before he could even begin to figure out where he was, the exhaustion hit. Shadow-traveling through broken shadows had sucked up every last ounce of his strength. He barely even registered the sight of blue pajamas (patterned with...waves? plaid?) or the feeling of strong arms lifting him up and setting him down somewhere wonderfully soft before he blacked out completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter really turns up the angst so if you want to skip, I'll be dropping a summary of the important details in the end notes for it.


	3. Dream, Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico spends a very restless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We turn up the angst in this one so if you want to avoid that, this is the chapter to skip. More comprehensive summary at the end. However, if you don't mind the angst, I really like how this chapter turned out. Enjoy!

Apparently, Nico wasn’t too tired to dream. Moreover, he had the good fortune to be revisiting his recent past. This was going to be a great night.

Nico’s dream-self stood in the corner of the infirmary at Camp Half-Blood. Another version of him (he liked to call this one “Nico di Angelo, Unlimited Dumbass Edition,” UDE for short) lay in the infirmary bed while Will Solace, healer and pretty boy extraordinaire, bustled around him like he was his grandson. Seeing him act so caring was always the worst part whenever Nico revisited this memory. It made him remember the hope he had had, right at the end of the war. He should have known he’d ruin it, just like he’d ruined all his other relationships.

“Will you just get on with it?” Nico UDE growled. “I’ve already spent enough time in this bed to get over childbirth.”

Will just snickered. “I ‘will,’ Nico. Just need to make sure you’re not going to fade on me again anytime soon.”

Nico UDE, of course, seized on the pronoun and not the joke.

“On me? Why’d you say ‘me?’ Am I somehow more important than the other half-dozen half-bloods you process every day?”

Will said nothing, but his face turned red. Nico—dream Nico not idiot Nico—turned around and faced the wall. He didn’t want to watch this. Not again.

Nothing could stop him from hearing the next words come out of his mouth, sealing his fate.

“Because I don’t need your sympathy—or whatever. Like, you’re not super important to me—or I mean, you’re important because, like, I don’t want you to die, or anything, but because you’re a demigod, and you’ve probably had a tough life, not like I like—think you’re special, or anything, so if you said that thing on accident, like, I totally get it I say stupid little words on accident all the time—meaningless really but still stupid all the same and I don’t mean them so you didn’t mean it either you’re just trying to be nice right? Of course that’s right…” Nico’s voice trailed off. The silence that stretched after was worse than the moaning from the Fields of Punishment. Hell, Hades, the cries of eternal agony and the blaring of Every Breath You Take would’ve been music to Nico’s ears then.

“Oh,” Will said. He finished filling out Nico’s chart and sprung him from the infirmary without another word.

The dream shifted. Nico was watching himself screaming in the woods. Wherever the Son of Hades walked, nature was destroyed; with every scream, a fresh wave of bones broke the surface of the Earth and assembled themselves before him, awaiting the strike of his midnight blade. They had no souls for the blade to drink, however. There was no light in them for it to reflect. The only light in the woods came from Nico himself, a darklight much like the light of the iron, and every time he raised it to strike he saw himself reflected there, twisted in agony, frustration, fear, whatever you want to call it.

Hours passed like that, with Nico forced to watch himself rend his soul to the bone again. How many times had he done that now? How many nights had he spent wallowing in his own reflection, seeing just how far he could push it with the detached, scientific calm that always accompanied his worst rages? Six, perhaps. Three for Bianca, Two for Percy, and, in August, one for Will. 

Of course, Nico had seen the strings binding those three together many times as he’d relived this memory over the last two months. He wouldn’t admit it in daylight, and he usually busied himself at night, but in the dreams, he had the clarity of one who has settled in for the long haul. The rage almost didn’t bother him after an hour or two.

All there of them were protectors. He’d been rescued and cared for by all three, and his fucked-up selfish ass hadn’t been able to help but attach to them for it. When he’d lost Bianca, he’d thought he’d just shrivel up and die. He’d hated Percy then, and gone on hating him right up until the bastard saved his life in the Labyrinth. The love that followed that, hopeless and childish, was almost worse, in a way, than losing Bianca, and not least because of how long it took Nico to admit it. 

Hazel was the only outlier in his attachments—she was probably his one truly good deed, come to think of it. Hazel was undoubtedly a heroine, one of the seven, a team player. Nico’s part had been in setting her life in motion again, and he supposed there was honor in that. Honor, too, in bringing back the Athena Parthenos, but, he reminded himself, that action wouldn’t have ever happened had he not saved Hazel.

But then, why had he saved Hazel? Sure, he thought she deserved a second chance. He’d do it again in a heartbeat, but he’d only even been near Asphodel, a place at times even more depressing than Punishment, because he was looking for Biana in Elysium. It was pure chance he’d stumbled across his sister, and even better luck that he hadn’t gone into a fourth rage over Bianca’s absence from the Underworld and missed Hazel completely. When it came down to it, Nico had acted selfishly. He’d just wanted his sister back; he’d wanted to be safe again.

Then, of course, with Will Nico had acted out of...he didn’t even know what. Somehow or another, he’d let himself turn the key before slamming on the brake. He’d tried to take a step into the sun, but he should have known the sun didn’t want him. It never wanted the children of Hades. His destiny was isolation, and he had to accept that, and he  _ could _ , if only the dream would stop tormenting him, taunting him like  _ Hey, look what a fool you made of yourself. If you’d just been cool with the dude, you might’ve at least held on to a friendship, bitch. _

“I would’ve done something stupid later on down the line then, subconscious,” Nico said to his dream. “I’d obviously already made Solace into another Percy, and that only ever led to trouble. Best case, he’s not even into guys.”

Then he stood and turned, only half-looking, to where his memory hacked at dead bone and screamed himself hoarse.

“There’s no point fighting it, di Angelo. You can’t break the window just by screaming at it, so you should just stop trying.”

But memory-Nico was passed out on the forest floor already. He’d finally collapsed amidst his meaningless desolation, looking for all the world like another bleached-out corpse. Nico wasn’t even talking to himself anymore, so he decided to take his own advice.

The dream folded around him and he sank into its inky depths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Nico revisits "the incident," where his social anxiety made him blurt out and reject Will at the end of the three days before Will even says anything. Then he had a huge rage in the forest, and was so embarrassed by its results that he fled the camp.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Hugs are to come in the next couple chapters.


	4. Morning, Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico loses his jacket.

Nico awoke slowly, lazily blinking sleep out of his eyes and oddly feeling more well-rested than he had in awhile, to find himself in a bunk with blue sheets, surrounded by blue sea-weathered stone walls inlaid with abalone and pearl. Sun streamed in through the windows, reflecting off of the walls and sending dizzying patterns through the room that reminded Nico of the way sunlight looked from underwater. Then he remembered the events of the previous night, and realized simultaneously that he was most likely lying in a bed in the Poseidon cabin, with all the horror  _ that _ implied, and that the feeling of being underwater was probably the point of the design.

Instantly alert, Nico assessed his...personal situation. He was still wearing his black jeans and black skull t-shirt. His skull ring was still on his finger. His hair wasn’t so fucked up that he looked like an emo version of Albert Einstein, which was always a plus, but his aviator jacket was nowhere to be found. Someone, and he had a horrible suspicion that someone was Percy, had taken it off of him in the night. He jumped out of bed, intending to go looking for it when he heard a girl’s voice say “Not so fast, Ghost King.”

Correction. It wasn’t just any girl’s voice; it was Annabeth’s voice. Nico looked around wildly but couldn’t see her—or his jacket. He didn’t want to lose it again. He hoped she wasn’t wearing it.

“Nico, I’m here to inform you that Percy and I are holding you hostage in this cabin until you explain what the fuck is going on and where the fuck you’ve been for two months,” said the voice, matter-of-factly.

Nico was almost dumbstruck—holding a son of Hades hostage? As if he couldn’t slip sideways into a wall and out the other side if he wanted to.

“How about where the fuck is my jacket?” he asked.

“Not here,” Annabeth responded, her voice coming from a different place in the cabin. Nico whirled around to face it. “And you’re not getting it back until I get some answers.” Her voice was infuriatingly playful.

“You realize,” Nico hissed, forcing venom into his voice to mask the bewilderment, “that I could just pop out of here and go looking for it myself?”

“I knew you’d say that. That’s part of why no one else at camp knows you’re here. As far as Chiron is concerned, Percy and I are the only current occupants of cabin three.”

Nico was taken aback by that. “What’s the other reason? Also, why are you living here?”

He could hear the exasperation in Annabeth’s voice as she answered. “Because we care about you, idiot. You think you could disappear for two months without any of your friends noticing?”

The response was automatic. Nico barely thought before the words tumbled from his mouth. “But you aren’t my friends. It’s not like I don’t like you, or anything, but we’ve really hardly done anything together.” Nico’s lips and tongue speeded up with his heart, just like it had happened that time with Will. Internally he cursed himself for letting his mouth open at all, but he couldn’t stop it. “I was just your, comrade, I guess? On the Argo II, and yeah it was a big deal, stopping Gaea, but I wasn’t even there with you guys for most of it. I was more comfortable on the crow’s nest anyway. I preferred it like that, actually. Friends just complicate things, you know? I think—”

Nico was abruptly cut off by a resounding slap that arced across his face from out of nowhere. Literally.

“Sit down, di Angelo,” Annabeth’s voice said. “You really think that after all we’ve been through, after all the times you saved us and we saved you, you really think that that meant nothing to us?” Annabeth pulled off her Yankees cap, revealing herself. She was standing maybe six feet from where Nico had instinctively sat—the bed he had occupied only a moment before—and her eyes shone.

“Because I don’t think it meant nothing to you, but I do think you refuse to believe it meant nothing to you, and that hurts me, because I see how much it hurts you, even if you don’t realize it.” She was close to sobbing now, her breath coming hitching on every other word. “Please, Nico, just tell me what’s wrong! We fucking miss you you idiot! All seven of us!”

Nico decided now wasn’t the time to correct her about Leo, but then the mere thought of Leo made a lot of brain happen to him at once. A rather frustrating amount of brain, indeed.

Nico remembered Leo, remembered his frustratingly witty remarks and constant impish grin. He remembered the look Leo got in his eyes whenever an idea came over him, a look that made him truly understand the meaning of “brainwave.” Leo wasn’t Nico’s type, but Nico felt an odd kinship with him, like they were two sides on Jason’s old Imperial Gold coin. Nico saw himself reflected in Leo’s eyes. He saw the same pain there that he tried to avoid looking at in the mirror every morning. Leo had lost his mom, too—properly lost, not “never knew,” and there hadn’t been anyone else. Frank didn’t count. No offense to his pain, but he had had his grandmother. Nico had only had Bianca, and he had lost her, too. The only person he knew worse off in the family department was Hazel, as it’s pretty hard to beat “my mom turned evil, then died. Also I died too,” and that was probably a big part of why he felt so close to her. Leo gave Nico that same feeling, the feeling of barely-concealed despair. The two of them just had different ways of going about that concealment.

Moreover, Leo was obviously the odd man out when it came to relationships. Even Nico, a socially inept, repressed 30s kid, could figure out the couples on the Argo II. Leo might have understood what made Nico spend those awful nights he had spent. Together, they might have been able to figure out why he kept revisiting his most recent tragic farce of missed opportunity. But Leo was gone, and now neither of them could be there to help each other out.

All of this went through Nico’s mind so fast it stole the words right off his lips and the breath out of his lungs. When he reached for more, his throat hitched, and when he tried again, he instead began sobbing like a goddamn ten-year-old, tears streaming down his face and onto the bedspread, which he realized, looking closely at it for lack of a better thing to occupy his tear-soaked perception, was actually quite adorable, textured with little scenes of ocean life. Well, the crabs sure were getting a bath now.

And, of course, because Nico’s life was one long blooper reel, Percy Jackson chose that exact moment to walk in the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left Kudos! Seeing this fic slowly grow, day by day, is a real joy to me. Please leave a comment if you have any suggestions/criticisms as it really helps me improve!
> 
> Incidentally, I just finished writing the next chapter and it is significantly longer. I'll still be doing one chapter a day, but it's looking like longer chapters is the norm, so there's a greater likelihood of that getting disrupted. Sorry in advance if that happens, and see you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. I'm considering switching the work to Teen and adding it to a series with the smut in an appended fic, since as this goes on I keep pushing that back, and I already have plans to build a series around this. Let me know what you think!


	5. Conversation, Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico has a very important conversation with a very wise girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't kidding when I said this was long. Enjoy! :D

“Oh,” Percy said, using almost the exact same tone Will had used over two months ago. Nico’s face felt hot enough to light the forges of Hephaestus. “I...brought some food?” He waved the paper bag he was carrying like it was a flag of truce. Nico’s stomach growled. He hadn’t bothered eating in Indiana. He’d thought it would be a simple assignment.

_And submit to the bastard? No way. You haven’t sunk that low yet._

Caught between his hunger and his pride, Nico did the only sensible thing: He started babbling again.

“Hi Percy sorry you had to see that I was just having some trouble with an assignment and somehow winded up here! Heh, heh. I think I’ve got it figured out now though I had a chat about Annabeth with strategy—I mean, strategy about Annabeth—I mean, with Annabeth about strategy, and I should probably just get out of your hair and go take care of the problem. That’s no problem...right?” he finished lamely.

 _When the fuck did I start talking like this? In the past, at least I trashed my relationships with full-throated, cold anger. Now I just whine myself into a puddle. Seriously, what the_ fuck.

Percy looked as baffled as Nico felt. Annabeth looked as if his leaving was very much going to be a problem with her. The silence stretched on for a solid minute. Then Nico completed his de-aging by throwing the sealife sheets over his head.

_I might as well stick a thumb in my mouth, too._

Then he heard a creak on the bed a split second before he felt Percy’s arms enfold him. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He didn’t even like it when it _did_ happen.

Nico growled like a wounded animal and tried to throw Percy’s arms off him, but succeeded only in tangling himself in the bedsheets and falling over. One of the crabs was staring him in the face like _not my problem, bro_.

“Percy,” Nico’s voice was deathly quiet. _At least that still works_. “Get off me. Now.”

“Alright, alright, crabby pants.” Percy released him, but he could still feel the smirk plastered across the son of Poseidon’s face. He wanted to punch him, sock him in the gut hard enough to push that smirk off for good. Couldn’t Percy see that he was hurting? But no, Nico’s emotions were too screwed up at the moment for that. Then he looked at the crab again, pressed up against his eyes.

 _Shouldn’t I be the crabby pants in the room?_ It seemed to say.

Nico started giggling, a low and unexpected sound that began in his gut and rose up to the top of his head. He threw the covers off himself, roaring with laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Percy, looking confused.

“It’s just—you said ‘crabby pants,’ and while you said that, I was staring at this crab on your bedsheets, and it was just—and I had just been...There are no words,” Nico answered, chest still heaving. In the absurdity of it all, however, he managed a moment of clarity. “Gods, my life is so fucked up.”  
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said since you woke up,” Annabeth piped up. She stepped forward and sat on the edge of the bed, and her voice became serious. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Nico didn’t know how to answer that. Well, that’s wrong. Part of him knew exactly how to answer. Of course he wanted to talk about it. He’d spent two months with only himself for company, going over his failure again and again in his subconscious. And here he was, with Annabeth Chase, the smartest girl he knew, offering to be his company.

The other part of him recoiled, mostly out of habit, but habit is a powerful thing. He’d grown used to having conversations with himself, to dealing with things on his own. That was his curse, as a son of Hades, and he’d made it his strength; he’d made it an integral part of the way he viewed the world. Unguarding himself, properly, truly opening up? Well, that was something he hadn’t done since the Argo II. It hadn’t taken long to fall back into old patterns.

He glanced at Percy uncertainly. Whether he could open up at all or not, he couldn’t do it with that man in the room. Their baggage was too recent, at least on his side, to share feelings like this. 

Percy, like a miracle, took the hint at once.

“I can go, if you need me to,” he said. “I really just meant to get you something to eat. I—” Annabeth poked him in the side “—we figured you’d be hungry.” He set down the bag next to Nico’s bed, doing an awkward little half-bow, and left the cabin.

Once he was gone, Annabeth turned her stormy eyes toward him, but the clouds had softened somewhat, becoming almost pleading—although Annabeth wasn’t always that easy to read—certainly not as easy as Percy, or...Will. Nico thought back to his time on the Argo II. It had been only for a short while, before he had to go west with the Athena Parthenos, but he knew how trusting and accepting they all were, at least in principle. He remembered how, in Split, Jason had done his best to accept Nico when the love god forced that confession out of him. He remembered how he had begun to feel warmer around them, almost safe—well, as safe as any demigod on a life-threatening, world-ending quest can be.

Then he had had to go west, and between all the dangers and the exhaustion of shadow-traveling so much, he had forgotten that feeling when it was only in its infancy. The only other memory he could clearly tie that feeling to was being stuck in the infirmary those three days. He’d pretended to hate it, and he certainly had, at first, but Will couldn’t help but just light up a room. He still didn’t know what had made him blurt out the way he did then, or why he kept doing it whenever he faced conflict. He was afraid he might do that again.

—That was the feeling. It wasn’t shame, or anger, or even self-hatred that had kept him away. It was fear. Not fear of getting eaten by a Drakon or skewered by a Titan, but just the everyday, benign, _mortal_ fear of fucking up around people. Maybe it was too much for his worn-out demigod brain to handle. Maybe he was beaten up too much to handle it.

_Maybe I should just walk out of here again. Jacket be damned._

But maybe Annabeth could help, if he tried to explain himself to her. Maybe she’d even dealt with this shit before. Sure, she couldn’t relate to being gay, or plucked out of the 1930s and dropped into modern life, or even losing a family the way Nico had, but she was still a demigod, and if his problem was dealing with a more mundane fear...maybe she _could_ relate.

Still, it was a risk. It was always a risk telling people how he felt.

  
  
  


Nico took it.

  
  


“Annabeth,” he began, then fell silent, fumbling around for the right words. _Gods, I was able to lay this out in my_ head _alright_.

“Yeah?” She was patient. That was a good start.

Nico took a deep breath and decided to begin with a question. “Do you know what it means when I blurt out a whole bunch of words like I did with you and Percy? I feel like I can’t stop, and I don’t even know where the words are coming from. Is...is there something wrong with me?”

“Oh, Nico, no. There’s nothing wrong with you. There never was. I think you may just have garden-variety PTSD,” she said. Her voice was almost frustratingly sympathetic, and Nico had to actively try to keep his mouth shut.

Nico wasn’t exactly a mental health expert, but he had heard enough about PTSD to understand it wasn’t something one called “garden-variety,” and he said as much to Annabeth.

“I’m not an Apollo kid,” she responded, seeming to choose her words carefully, “but since Percy and I got back from Tartarus and eventually back to the safety of Camp, we had some...problems of our own. We didn’t realize it before you disappeared, but we talked to Chiron about it, and he explained it’s really common with demigods who survive their quests. We get so used to being on high alert, ready to attack at a moment’s notice, that we get stuck and start to apply that attitude to any stressful situation. It comes out in all kinds of ways, and while our godly blood gives us some resistance—I won’t go into the details, but Steven Pinker—he’s a son of Providentia—did some fascinating research on it back in the 90s at the college in New Rome—anyway, we have some resistance to traumatic stress, but put enough quests on a demigod and it starts to really affect us. Tartarus, in particular—well, from what I could find, we’re the first three demigods _ever_ to survive the Pit. It did a number on us all, even if we didn’t see the effects immediately.” As she went on, her words came faster and faster, almost reminding Nico of himself.

Nico took a moment to process what she had said. “Okay, I’m not sure I understood that exactly,” he began, “but...what can I do about it? I—well, I’m afraid I’ll screw things up again, Annabeth. I thought I _did_ , when I disappeared.”

“I figured as much.” All the storm had left her eyes. Instead, Nico thought, with a glimmer of hope, that he saw some real understanding in them. “When I asked Will where you had gone, he wouldn’t say much. And don’t think I’ve let you off the hook for that either, di Angelo. When Chiron confirmed you were still picking up reports, we decided to try and give you some space, but you scared us. I can only begin to imagine what you went through down there alone, but I need you to remember that we care about you.” Her voice grew wobbly again and she paused for a moment. “As for what you can do, the best thing is to get checked out by a professional. There are few Greek demigods who know how to handle mental health crises, but some of the New Rome exchanges are well versed in that kind of care.”

Nico was a little unsure about seeing someone (didn’t that make him weak?), but for the moment he was happier that...well, that it looked like he wasn’t alone for once. Maybe some force had guided his shadow-travel here, so that he could see the people he really needed to see. Then he noticed the tone of uncertainty in Annabeth’s voice, and grew worried again.

“There’s a catch, isn’t there?” he said suspiciously.

“Well, the thing is, these professionals...they’re Apollo kids, and they’re operating and training out of cabin seven. You’d probably have to go to them, and…”

Nico didn’t like where this was going, and he liked even less that Annabeth seemed to know what his reservations about the Apollo cabin were. “And what?” he nearly spat, eyes now hard and defiant.

“Nico, don’t pretend I don’t know. You like Will.”

“Will who?” the venom crept back into Nico’s voice. This wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the place. He wasn’t ready for this yet.

“You know fully well who.” Annabeth’s eyes were apologetic, but her tone didn’t waver. “The pieces were easy to put together. Percy and I found the clearing you left in the woods. We cleaned it up, in fact. I had a hunch. After I went and talked to Will, I had a theory. When you didn’t come back, I was certain.”

Nico began to rise from the bed, the fury and shame and—yes, the fear—surging through him. Annabeth stopped him with a hand on his chest, the clouds in her eyes gathering again, the determination clear.

“But before you storm out of here,” she said, “I want to tell you that I have told no one.” She paused for breath before continuing. “And, for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure _he_ likes you, too.” She sounded like she was a lot more than _sure_. And with that, Annabeth reached into her Yankees cap and pulled out a slip of paper, dropped it on the bed, and left the cabin, pausing to wave back at Nico before slipping out the door.

Nico stood, stunned, next to the bed for a moment. Could she really be right? Could Will really like him, even after his frankly _awful_ gaffe in the infirmary? Even after two months with no contact? He didn’t see how it could be possible, but then, he hadn’t been able to see the possibility of one of the seven, who he supposed he might be able to count as his friends, now, actually trying to sit down and help him. He wouldn’t have even believed Percy would hug him, as uncomfortable as it had made him. He glanced down at the paper. It was the size and shape of a fortune from a fortune cookie, like one the goddess Nemesis might carry, but the words were in Annabeth’s neat handwriting.

_Your aviator jacket is hanging outside your cabin._

Out of curiosity, Nico turned the paper over, wondering if maybe there were lucky numbers on the back. Instead, he found another message.

_Alternatively, I asked Reece to set aside an hour for you at 2:00. You can leave or you can go to cabin seven. It’s up to you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also wasn't kidding when I put up "Nico di Angelo needs a hug" - but he also needs a therapist. Next chapter's a bit of a diversion - gotta deal with the eldritch horror. I think I might do two tomorrow, since chapter seven we actually get to bring Will and Nico back together!
> 
> Cheers :)


	6. Coke, Diet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico delivers some news. Chiron and Mr. D have moved on from Pinochle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick chapter establishing our external conflict. Longer chapter planned to post in about 12 hours where we'll finally reach the actual solangelo in this solangelo fic (oopsie). Enjoy!

Nico sat on the bunk in the Poseidon cabin, listening to the fountain murmur and eating a turkey sandwich out of the paper bag Percy had left him. He turned Annabeth’s paper over and over in his hands, contemplating what he should do. He felt like he was back in the Labyrinth, twelve years old and watching the god Janus toss a key back and forth, his two faces urging Nico to choose one door or the other.

The life of solitude, of stealing through the night, was one Nico knew well. It had been his life ever since Bianca’s death. He’d learned to live with the loneliness, the aching in his chest that came whenever he built a fire and remembered he only had himself or the dead for company. He’d even found—bloody hell, he’d found solace in it, ever since he’d embarrassed himself in front of Solace.

But then, maybe he should take this new risk, the risk of seeing Solace again, the risk of being noticed by campers who had marked his absence and exposing himself to their whispered questions. Maybe Solace could be his solace. Maybe that was a sign.

Of course, maybe he wouldn’t see Will at all. Maybe his session with Reece would be shit, and he’d resolve not to go back. Worse yet, maybe he  _ would _ see Will and he’d do something stupid again.

Then the sandwich began churning in his stomach. In the midst of all his internal and external whining about himself, he’d forgotten his assignment. The monster he’d met had been completely driven from his mind. He had to talk to someone about it, if only for the practical reason that he didn’t think he could face the monster on his own.

Abruptly, the churning stopped. Nico now had something he could do. A concrete course of action. More importantly, it allowed him to put his feelings on the back burner. Nico stood up from the bunk, walked purposefully to the door, and stepped outside.

He almost stopped right there. The midday sunlight stung his unaccustomed eyes. He hadn’t realized until then how often he’d been avoiding it lately, but he felt his sword begin to hum at his side, almost as though the blade missed the sunlight.

_ That’s odd. Isn’t Stygian Iron supposed to abhor the light? _

Either way, the humming at his side gave him the courage to continue out into the camp. Thankfully, there were few other demigods hanging around the cabins right then, so Nico was able to make his way to the Big House without having to stop to talk to anyone.

Chiron and Mr. D were sitting on the porch, playing Gin Rummy.

“Chiron,” Nico said, pointedly ignoring the god of wine, “I have some news for you—about my latest assignment.”

“Just a minute, my boy,” Chiron muttered absentmindedly, not looking up from his cards. After a moment, a satisfied grin broke across his face. He laid down his hand and triumphantly declared “Diet Coke!” Dionysus stared at the cards for a moment before grumbling and forking over six golden drachmas and a can of the aforementioned beverage.

It was then that Chiron finally noticed who was standing behind him. “Oh!” he said. “Nico, good to see you again!” He really sounded like he meant it, too.

“Yes, yes, we’re all very pleased at the return of Nigel die-Ankle,” drawed Mr. D before turning to face Nico. “Although I, for one, have half a mind to punish you, boy, for running off the way you did. Perhaps I should turn you into a leopard? No, that would be far too dignified. A mouse, then?”

Chiron interrupted him. “Mr. D, you’ve had this conversation already with Percy and I. Nico was to be welcomed into the camp upon his return. The boy traveled through Tartarus by himself, for gods’ sake. He’s suffered enough.” The centaur’s words stirred cold fury in Nico’s heart. He would rather be turned into a weasel than have people arguing about what a  _ poor _ ,  _ suffering _ ,  _ boy _ he was. He almost said as much, then reminded himself that he had more important things to discuss.

“Excuse me for interrupting your conversation about me,” he began (alright he couldn’t  _ not _ acknowledge some of his anger. He wasn’t a saint), “but I came here with some important news.” Both Chiron and Dionysus looked up at him, the latter’s eyes simultaneously bored and malicious. Chiron opened his mouth, but Nico continued before he could speak. “The monster that’s been terrifying mortals on the south shore of Lake Michigan? It’s one I’ve never seen before. It doesn’t even seem Greek.”

Chiron’s expression immediately changed from infuriating pity to serious interest. “Are you sure?” he asked. “The hordes of Tartarus are many and varied indeed.”

“I’m pretty sure,” Nico answered, the ice dropping out of his voice as he recalled the previous night’s encounter. “Most Greek monsters, at least the ones I’ve seen...well, they can be disgusting, terrifying even, but there’s always something fundamentally  _ grounded _ about them, something that feels like it could have grown from Gaea or Pontus or Tartarus. This was...alien, in every sense of the word. It felt like it didn’t belong.”

“Can you describe it?”

Nico relayed the monster’s features from the picture seared into his brain in those brief moments of contact. By the time he had finished, Chrion’s look had turned to worry.

“I must say I have never heard of a monster that looked or acted the way you described either,” he said slowly. “However, the monsters of the deep often go unseen for centuries on end, perhaps even millennia. I will speak with Poseidon about this. Thank you, Nico.”

“And I,” interjected Mr. D, still affecting an air of supreme disinterest, “Have business to attend to, not that I anticipate any enjoyment out of it.” A look of disgust crossed the wine god’s face. He appeared to be forcing the next words out of his mouth. “Are you checking in for the year then, Nigel?”

And all too soon, Nico’s mind was jolted out of the easy business of confronting unspeakable horrors. In that instant, Mr. D presented him with the same choice Annabeth had left him in cabin three. He wanted to punch the god, and he wanted to punch Chiron even more so for treating him like a fragile object, but then he had a new thought.

Nico was incredibly lucky not to have died to that... _ thing _ ...whatever it was. What if there was no shadow, even a broken one, behind him the next time something like that happened? What if the shadow that was there was so tiny or so broken he destroyed himself trying to travel through it?

And it was even luckier that he had ended up in the Poseidon cabin, where there was, believe it or not, someone to take care of him. If he left again, maybe he’d finally stretch that goodwill he didn’t even known he had too far, and there wouldn’t be someone there next time he needed help.

_ The other side to falling for protectors: sometimes you need protection _

He wasn’t sure where that voice came from. It wasn’t the usual one, but he didn’t hate it.

“Yes,” Nico said before he could rethink any of it. “I’ll be staying this year.”

He almost thought he saw a twinkle from deep within Dionysus’s eyes, like how faces sometimes appeared in his sword. He blinked, and it was gone. The camp director gave him a gruff nod and disappeared into the Big House.

“Nico—” began Chiron, but the son of Hades cut him off with a simple “don’t.” After a moment, Nico asked him what time it was.

“About 1:50. But Nico, I really—” but Nico cut him off again. “Then I’d better be going. I have an appointment.”

On his way to the golden offense that was the Apollo cabin, Nico stopped by his own cabin and grabbed his jacket, but he didn’t go inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who left kudos! <3


	7. Hello, Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico goes to therapy. Things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a couple hours later than I promised. I think I'd like to make my regular upload around this time, so expect chapters here from now on.
> 
> On another note, we have finally reached the solangelo. Enjoy! :D

At least it wasn’t so blinding inside. Cabin seven’s interior featured an expansive living room strewn with wicker armchairs and hung with a variety of bows and musical instruments, three side rooms that presently had their doors shut, and a loft bedroom that peeked out over the living room. The warm glow of shaded lamps glanced beautifully off the honey-colored paneling, and the floor was spread with a woven rug depicting Apollo’s symbol, the lyre, and his menagerie of sacred animals, including the raven, the hawk, the fox, and the deer.

_ Lot of animals for one god _ . Although, from the one time Nico had met Apollo, he had no trouble believing the number.

Nico felt distinctly out of place in his all-black attire and aviator’s jacket, and even more so when a girl jumped up out of one of the armchairs, wearing an orange Camp-Half Blood t-shirt, a hawaiian overshirt printed with a design of the setting sun, very light blue jeans, and a bright smile to top it all off.

“You must be Nico!” she said. “Reece said to expect you. He’s in the solarium.” She pointed to the door on Nico’s right.

“Thanks…” said Nico, taken aback by her energy. “And you are?”

“Kayla, Kayla Knowles.” She shook her head almost imperceptibly, never ceasing her smile, but Nico noticed because of the way it made her dyed-green hair catch the light coming in through the huge front windows.

“Cool,” was all Nico had to answer that. He stood there awkwardly for a minute. “I suppose I should just…?” he began.

“Yeah, yeah, go right in!” she answered immediately. Then, after neither of them moved for another moment, she started asking questions. Questions Nico did not want to answer. “Where were you for the last two months? Why did you decide to come back? Didn’t you—” but Nico stopped her before she said something she’d regret.

“Mind your own business, Kayla Knowles.” She was rapidly resurrecting his bad mood.

_ I thought Annabeth said she and Percy told no one. Why wasn’t she surprised to see me here? Why is Reece ‘expecting’ me? _

Nico entered the door she had directed him to before Kayla could continue.

The solarium was definitely an appropriate name for it. The entire ceiling was one giant skylight that let the sun pour in. The room was circular, with rings of Roman-style couches gathered around a central raised platform that Nico assumed must be for performances. More instruments hung on the walls, alongside bulletin boards on which countless sheets of paper were tacked over each other. Nico inspected the closest one and found that they were poems. Out of curiosity, he read one:

_ Amans dulcissime mi, _

_ in bracchiis tuis complectendus _

_ Ego, ut evolemus liberti _

_ quasi aves leves in aetheribus _

_ Love poems _ . 

Nico tried to be disgusted. He really did, but he just didn’t have the energy for it. In fact, he was just going to read another when a voice spoke up behind him.

“Are you going to stand there all day, di Angelo?” Nico whipped around, drawing his sword at the sudden disturbance, then saw the man he assumed must be Reece lounging on one of the couches.

“I generally prefer not to have swords in therapy, you know,” he said, standing up. He was tall, especially compared to Nico’s five foot seven, and had a shock of frizzy black hair framing his coffee-brown face. His eyes were hazel, almost yellow, and had the same light and openness in them Nico had seen in all Apollo kids. He extended his hand with a smirk, and Nico shook it, lowering his sword.

“Welcome to the solarium,” Reece said, spreading his hands. “I’m Reece, as you probably guessed. You may have met Kayla outside—she’s assisting me today. Annabeth told me to expect you, and I must say I’m glad you showed up.”

_ At least that explains Kayla. But Annabeth somehow put me down here before we even talked. How the Hades did she know to do that? _

“Um...thanks.” Nico didn’t know how to answer any better, so he crossed to a couch near the wall and sat down. Reece turned another couch around and sat facing him.

“So, what were you reading on the wall just now?” he asked.

“Just some love poem.”

“Okay, and why did you choose that one in particular?”

“No idea.” Nico might have had an idea, but it wasn’t something he wanted to get into now.

“Did you find anything in it that spoke to you?” Reece was persistent. Denial wasn’t getting Nico out of this.

“Well...I guess? I mean, I hate that sappy shit and everything, but I kinda like the way it talked about birds...I guess.”

“Hmm. Can you recite the poem for me?” Nico thought about it and found that he could remember it perfectly. He saw no harm in reciting it to Reece, especially since the guy could just go read it himself, so he did.

“I like it!” Reece said when he was finished, flashing Nico a wide smile. “Let’s talk more about what you said about the birds in it.”

And that was how it went. Reece didn’t ask him to talk about his feelings, didn’t ask him why he left the camp or why he’d stayed away so long, didn’t ask him about Tartarus or his family. They just talked about whatever the conversation flowed to, and Nico found that he was sharing things about himself that he would normally never share with anyone. He told Reece about his cabin, about the images he sometimes saw reflected in his sword, and he even told Reece about the Wicked poster on his wall, which, far from being an embarrassing revelation, instead sparked a discussion about what Nico liked about the show and, from there, about Broadway in general. Reece even recommended a show for him: Dear Evan Hansen, he called it. Nico felt as relaxed talking to the Roman demigod as he had travelling by himself, if not more relaxed.

Eventually, Reece looked down at his watch and then spoke up. “Well, it’s 1:55, and I hate to cut our conversation short, but before you go I wanted to give you an exercise you can do to calm yourself whenever you start to feel a little anxious or out of control, Okay?”

“Okay,” Nico responded, not caring how Reece knew that he sometimes felt that way, that he sometimes blurted out whole speeches without really meaning to. Had it come up in their conversation?

“Alright, we’re going to do it together to start. I want you to close your eyes, Nico, and focus on your breathing.” Nico complied.

“Good. Now we’re going to breathe in for three counts and out for four, alright? In...two...three...out...two...three...four. Excellent. Now, we’re going to repeat this four times, and as you do it, I want you to imagine yourself somewhere you feel completely at peace. Somewhere where there are no expectations on you and you can just be yourself.”

Nico did so as Reece counted off the next breaths, imagining that he was back on the beach in Indiana, looking at the sun setting over the water and watching the stars come out. It was a wonder to behold.

“And done!” Reece declared, bringing him back to the solarium. “Fantastic first session, Nico. It was wonderful to meet and get to know you. Would you like to schedule another session right now?”

“Good to meet you too, Reece, and sure. Why not?” Nico found himself saying, still relaxed. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his mind, or at least shifted over. He felt like he could take on the world like this.

“How about the same time next week?”

“Sounds good,” Nico responded.

“Great. See you then!” Reece ushered him out the door and into the cabin proper. Another camper—was that one of the Ares kids?—was waiting on the other side, glowering at nothing in particular.

“Hey, Max! You’re right on time. Come on in.” Max followed Reece inside, shooting Nico a surprised look as she entered. The door closed behind them, and Nico was alone in the Apollo cabin living room.

Well, he  _ was _ alone. That is, until the door opened to admit none other than William Solace, a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, whistling  _ Ain’t No Mountain High Enough _ , which under different circumstances would be hilarious.

Under these circumstances, Nico was so startled by the sight of him that he nearly blurted out something stupid again, the anxiety returning in full force, but he made himself stop, close his eyes, and take a deep breath, envisioning the lake and the red-gold patterns of the setting sun. In for three. Out for four. He opened his eyes. Will still hadn’t noticed him. Nico found himself noticing the way the afternoon sunlight streamed through Will’s hair, almost making it glow, instead of noticing all the ways he himself felt like he wanted to bolt, and, as if in a dream, he reached for the only words that seemed to fit what he was seeing.

“Hello, Sunshine,” he said.

Will looked up in surprise, and his expression only became more surprised when he saw who was talking. Then the biggest grin Nico had ever seen, even on an Apollo kid, broke out across his face.

“Hello, Ghost King,” Will said, still grinning. “Is that really you? Or just a projection from the Underworld?”

Will’s voice brought Nico right back to his time in the infirmary, where an endless stream of awful, cringe-worthy jokes had flowed out in that voice, always straddling the border between self-awareness and absolute dorkishness. It felt like home, much more than the Hades cabin, even more than the campfires he’d spent so much time around.

Nico didn’t realize he was crying until he tasted the salt of one of his tears. He ran to Will and hugged him tight.

“Will, I’m so sorry that I said those things and then disappeared. I really didn’t mean any of it I was just...well, I don’t know. I just started talking and all the wrong words came out, but they weren’t at all true. And then I was so embarrassed and mad at myself that I just couldn’t come back. And...and...I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” Will said in response. “You’re babbling, Neeks. I know you didn’t mean it. I’m just glad you’re back.”

Nico didn’t even pay attention to the nickname. He was just happy Will wasn’t mad at him, that they could at least be friends now.

“In fact,” Will said, releasing Nico and backing up, “I think we should celebrate. To the return of the son of Hades!” he grinned, and Nico grinned back automatically. Then Will got an odd look on his face, almost as though he were nervous. “Really though, there’s this coffee place only a little ways out from Camp, and I happen to know that Connor Stoll has a car. And,” Will fished around in his bag before triumphantly producing a set of keys. “He gave me a copy of the keys.” After Nico didn’t respond, Will continued, affecting an air of bravado. “So, what do you say to a little trip? A welcome back?”

Nico didn’t know how to answer that. He just stood there, dumbstruck.

_ Is Will Solace asking me out on a date? _

Will laughed nervously. “Don’t make me make this doctor’s orders, ghost boy.”

“Um...y-yeah. Sure,” Nico stammered out. Right now?

“Yep! I’ll just go get the car. Meet me at Thalia’s tree.” He continued before Nico could say anything, blurting out “Epic,” ruffling Nico’s hair (which made Nico hiss and try to push his hands away, but not, you know, in a mean way), and practically bounding out of the cabin.

The son of Hades stood rooted to the spot for a full minute, unable to comprehend what had just happened, let alone ponder what it could mean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You bet we're dropping more DEH in this. I couldn't resist.
> 
> Translation of the poem Nico read in the solarium:
> 
> My sweetest love,   
> enfold me in your arms,   
> so that we may fly free  
> as birds light in the heavens


	8. Grounds of Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Nico sneak out for some coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for spelling/grammar errors in this chapter. My power went out so I didn't have time to proofread (currently uploading on phone hotspot lol).

Cautious optimism filled Nico’s heart, threatening to boil over into overt ecstatic excitement. Will Solace had asked him to coffee. That wasn’t something demigods normally did, was it?

_ Of course, it’ll be my luck that in the time I’ve been gone it’s  _ gotten _ normal. _

The son of Hades desperately didn’t want to read any more into the suggestion than was there, which was, of course, what led him to pacing around the interior of his cabin, replaying a one-minute interaction on loop in his head until he had enough content for two ad breaks and a sponsorship deal.

He glanced over at the wall before remembering there weren’t any windows in cabin thirteen, so he figured he might as well just go, if only so he didn’t wear a rut into the obsidian floor. He grabbed the essential items out of his pack (wallet, emergency phone, drachmas for emergency Iris-Messaging, small flask of nectar), and picked up his sword from where he had thrown it down earlier on his (still ridiculous) bed.

He barely had to look at it to see the image staring back at him from its depths. The reflection hadn’t changed since he had left the Apollo cabin. Nico sheathed the sword and headed for the door, but then had a much better idea and instead went for his couch, whence he had shadow-traveled to Indiana only a day and a half ago. This time, the journey was much shorter.

Nico stayed hidden in the shadow of Thalia’s pine tree, taking care not to disturb the dragon Peleus who was presently snoozing, curled up around the tree. Nico peered out of the shadow and spotted, just in time, a Jeep Wrangler trundling up the hill towards the tree.

Nico slipped out of his hiding place, stepping carefully over the dragon’s tail and borrowing some of the tree’s shadow just long enough for him to reach where the car had parked itself, Solace in the driver’s seat. He released the shadows and jumped up on the hood of the Jeep, yelling “boo!” It was the silliest thing he’d done in months.

Will, right on cue, jumped about a foot in the air and yipped like his father’s sacred fox. Nico couldn’t help but burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as he slid off the hood and opened the Jeep’s passenger side door.

“You better not do that while I’m driving, di Angelo, or you’ll wind up deader than your Underworld butler,” Will growled, although he didn’t sound upset at all. “What was his name again?”

“Jules-Albert,” Nico supplied, “and he’s my chauffeur. Probably a better driver than you, Solace.” This was easy territory. Jokes, especially at the expense of the...crush-ee, because yeah, Nico definitely had a crush on this man, were the perfect natural obscurant, allowing one or the other to test the waters as slowly or as quickly as they wanted.

The two demigods passed the time like this all the way to their destination, which was about a half-hour away. Will parked the car in the lot of a building calling itself “Grounds of Glory,” a bright little coffee house on the edge of an expanse of woods, themselves all decked out in autumn oranges, reds and yellows (looking rather like a perpetual sunset, Nico remarked to himself). The pair got out and headed inside.

Grounds of Glory looked far too normal to be any place Nico would ever visit. There were two baristas working behind the granite counter, a display of delectable-looking pastries next to the cash register, patrons chatting and drinking their coffee at quaint tables (each table painted with a different yet brightly-colored pattern, of course), and it all looked simultaneously completely out-of-place for any demigod and absolutely in-character for Will Solace. No wonder he liked it.

And, of course, Will being Will, Nico found himself picking out the things he liked about the shop, even admiring the patterns he might have otherwise found ridiculous and garish. Meanwhile, Will bounded up to the cashier, dragging Nico along by the forearm (a touch Nico didn’t mind, for once), and began to order.

“A medium Honeybee Cappuccino for me and—what do you want, Neeks?” he said absentmindedly.

Nico had absolutely no idea what he wanted but, under pressure from Will’s having already ordered, he blurted out the first thing he saw on the menu. The barista raised an eyebrow and asked him if that was really what he wanted, and Nico confirmed, right before he began to worry at the evil grin Will shot him before paying and walking him to a table.

“Wait so what did I actually get,” Nico said, his voice betraying that hint of worry.

Will chuckled. “You’ll see. But I don’t want to spoil the fun.” He rubbed his hands together, a motion which only contributed to his new evil scientist look.

Nico just rolled his eyes, then wondered how long it had been since he felt this comfortable around someone to roll his eyes at them. Was the last time in the infirmary? On the Argo II? Ever? He couldn’t be sure, but he was sure he enjoyed the feeling.

Then his brain just had to move on to the bad topic—the one that made him anxious, because this is the Nico di Angelo Gives Himself Emotional Whiplash Hour.

_ So,  _ said the voice in his head,  _ is this a date? It certainly  _ feels _ like a date, but it seems like he comes here a lot, and aren’t dates usually to fancier places? Then again, it’s not like it’s that easy to get to a fancy restaurant, especially for us demigods, so maybe this  _ is  _ a date? But if it was, wouldn’t he have said something about it being a date? _

_ Of course, this is all assuming the man’s even gay. _

This last thought got Nico analyzing Will’s appearance, trying in vain to make a conclusive determination in a realm he knew, rationally, no conclusive determinations were ever made. Unfortunately for rational (irrational) analysis, however, that just made him look at Will.

Solace was wearing a Camp Half-Blood shirt, an orange-and-yellow flannel not unlike the leaves outside, which might have been intentional camouflage but looked adorable either way, jeans and lime-green converse high-tops _. _ His hair, which had started out carefully combed, was now tousled by the wind in the prettiest way…

_ Enough of ogling him.  _

And his ever-present messenger bag lay across his chest, just accentuating the lean muscle underneath that all demigods acquired sooner or later.

_ Seriously, it’s embarrassing. _

Will’s voice finally snapped him out of it.

“Earth to di Angelo,” he said, snapping his fingers under Nico’s nose, and the son of Hades looked up. “What’cha thinkin’ about?”

Nico almost said “you,” but was saved from an explanation by the arrival of their coffee, as Will’s grin immediately returned as Nico’s drink was set down before him.

“Go on, try it,” he said. Nico gave him a suspicious look but obligingly took a sip (Will had paid for it, after all). At first, it tasted just like regular coffee with milk, but, after a few seconds, a searing heat bloomed across the inside of his mouth. It felt like he’d tried to eat a flamethrower, or like his tongue had turned into a miniature nuclear reactor. Immediately Nico opened his mouth wide, baring his tongue to the air and panting, trying to get as much air circulation around it as possible, all the while glaring at Will, who was, for his part, presently overcome by fits of giggles.

“Here,” he said after he had calmed down, sliding his cup towards Nico, “try some of mine. It should help a little.” Nico took a wary sip of the drink and felt cool sweetness carpet over the unbearable heat, finally making him able to talk again.

“What the  _ hell _ is in this?” he demanded, pointing to his drink.

“Dude, it’s Ghost Pepper,” Will replied, breaking out into fresh giggles (note to self:  _ shit _ , dude is usually platonic). “You know, like, the hottest pepper in the world?”

“You got that right,” Nico said. His mouth, while no longer burning, felt raw, like the pepper had peeled the top layer of skin off. Then he got a ridiculous idea in his head. “Ghost Pepper? That’s the name? Well then, as I am the Ghost King, I command this pepper to leave me alone!”

He took another sip of the coffee to emphasize his point, which was a bad idea, because Ghost Pepper was just a name, and the heat immediately returned in full force. Nico coughed and, unable to speak again, pointed at Will’s drink, which was still in front of him, asking a silent question at the other demigod. Will nodded, chuckling to himself, and Nico took a big gulp of the Honeybee Cappuccino.

Will’s smile turned from mischievous to kind again. “How about we just finish mine?” he offered.

“That would be nice,” Nico said, voice a little hoarse from the two blazes his mouth had now endured.

They were walking out of the coffee shop, having shared one drink together and another crop of jokes that had passed the time like a summer breeze, warm and pleasant. Nico was feeling ridiculously happy, for the moment staving off worries about whatever implications Will’s words or actions had. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, bathing the two demigods in soft radiance and making them both marvel at how beautiful the woods were like that.

That was when the dogs attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right. Fight scene coming up. Get ready to see Will bust out them Apollo moves.  
> Cheers!


	9. They're a Team Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico and Will have an encounter in the woods.  
> ...  
> ...  
> (NOT LIKE THAT get your mind out of the gutter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Discussion of r*pe
> 
> Sorry this is a day late everyone; I lost my writing time yesterday because of a family event.

They came creeping out of the (still picturesque) forest, jaws slavering, yellow eyes filled with malice and hunger. Their coats were matted with twigs, leaves, blood, and what looked to be golden ichor, confirming the fact that they weren’t just hunting dogs. These were monsters, whatever they had once been. And they were looking right at the two demigods, who froze in their tracks.

Without a second thought, Nico grabbed Will by the hand and took off running into the forest. Will didn’t protest; he followed the son of Hades without a sound as they leaped over fallen branches and weaved through trees. Whether they could take the hounds or not was beside the point for the moment. Neither of them wanted the dogs anywhere near the mortal coffee shop.

Nico glanced behind him to see if the dogs were following and, sure enough, they were. When they made eye contact they began to bark madly, slobber dripping from their jaws at every call. He caught Will’s eye, too, and the other demigod nodded at him, face set, ready for battle.

The pair skidded to a halt in a clearing surrounded by ash trees, where there would be more room to fight. Nico unsheathed his Stygian Iron blade and Will pulled an odd-looking dagger from a pocket of his messenger bag. The grip was much longer than it should have been, with holes at semi-regular intervals down its length and a curved slit at the pommel. Nico was about to ask Will what it was for, but at that moment a voice sounded from the trees they had just exited.

“Why, hello, little demigods!” The voice was jovial, welcoming, but Nico detected an unmistakable note of mania beneath it, and he caught the smell of death in the air. Death often smelled different depending on the person, but Nico always knew the scent for what it was. This death smelled of blood and spit, like many others, but also pine trees and...silver?

A piercing whistle sounded, and the hounds that had been chasing them appeared at the edge of the clearing. The fanned out, surrounding Will and Nico, staying back for now but definitely prepared to close in and make them into some excellent demigod dog chow.

Then a man strolled into the clearing from the direction of the voice and the whistle. He looked to be in his late 20s, with an athletic build and long black hair and would have been pretty attractive, Nico supposed, if only he didn’t look like he’d gone swimming in a swampy tar pit. He was covered in dirt, leaves, blood and general grime, like his dogs, and his hair was tangled and matted into clumps by more blood. Really there was just a lot of blood happening between this man and the dogs, and Nico really wasn’t into it. He was wearing what might have been a fur loincloth underneath all the caked-in gore, and carried a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a long hunting knife, which was currently pointed in the direction of Nico’s throat.

“Out for a little walk then, you two?” The man’s tongue darted out and licked his other lip.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Will demanded defiantly from Nico’s side.

“Who am I?” replied the man, “I am a hunter. A hunter of very important prey. As for what I want, the answer is you, of course. You two will do quite nicely.”

“Great, very helpful,” Nico muttered to Will. In a bid to stall for more time, he then spoke up in his best sassy voice. “So, you think we’re going to come along quietly just because you have a bow and a bunch of dogs? Do you know who I am?” his voice became dangerously low, and he reached out with his powers and began to raise bones from the Earth.

“Oh, I hoped you’d go for the combative option!” said the hunter as he almost whooped with glee. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a good hunt. This is so much better than being a deer.”

Will’s eyebrows shot up at the hunter’s last comment. He began muttering to himself, repeating over and over again “a deer...a deer...there’s got to be a myth…” Nico had no clue what Will was talking about, but he figured the son of Apollo might have something useful to share, given enough time to think.

“Sounds like you’re out of practice then, hunter,” Nico said, raising his sword, calling upon the bones he had raised to form into warriors.

Unfortunately, there weren’t any bones around except for those of small animals, so Nico now had an army of skeletal mice and birds with which to fight the hunter’s very alive, very dangerous-dogs. Double unfortunately, the moment he raised his sword he felt something graze his right ear, drawing blood, and he heard the unmistakable sound of an arrow thudding into the tree behind him. The hunter had drawn and shot unbelievably fast.

“Now now, we’ll have none of that,” he said, disdain creeping into his voice. “No Underworld messing about, Nico di Angelo.”

Right then, Nico saw recognition dawn across Will’s face out of the corner of his eye, and Will exclaimed, “You’re Actaeon! The hunter who got eaten by his dogs!”

“Yes,” sneered Actaeon, “and for what? For walking in on a goddess bathing? Was it  _ my _ fault that Artemis and her hunters didn’t even try to keep the location of their bathing-pool a secret?” Nico remembered the story. Actaeon was a hunter who had peeped in at Artemis bathing with her hunters. When Artemis found him out, she had transformed him into a deer and made his hunting dogs mad with bloodlust, causing them to attack and eat him.

“But, dude, that was millenia ago. How are you alive again?” Will asked, voicing the next question that crossed Nico’s mind. As Will asked it, however, the answer came to Nico.

“Solace,” he hissed, “Gaea probably resurrected him.”

“That’s right, son of Hades!” Actaeon flexed his arms and looked smugly down at himself, which Nico thought was really out of line considering the four or five layers of dirt and gore the hunter’s flesh was under. “The Earth mother brought me back with the promise that I could have my way with Artemis, as repayment for her unjust punishment.”

“Uh, news flash,” said Will. “Gaea’s basically dead. She won’t be granting any promises anytime soon. And besides, your one wish was to rape a goddess? That’s fucked up.”

“Don’t forget the fact he perved on her while she was bathing,” Nico added, scowling at the hunter.

“Fuckin’ hets man. I don’t even know sometimes,” Will replied. Nico’s heart did a very inconvenient tap-dance at Will’s choice of words, but he firmly filed the statement away for post-life-threatening-battle processing.

“ENOUGH,” roared Actaeon. “It is true that the Earth mother has fallen, but that does not matter to me anymore. I have a new master, vast and powerful, who has promised me dominion of the hunt in Artemis’s place! And it has expressed great interest in you two.”

“It?” Will inquired, a confused look on his face.

“No more questions! Come with me or my dogs will rip out your essences and I’ll bring you to my master that way.” His eyes looked as mad as his dogs’, but Nico sensed a level of truth in his statement. Whatever his “essence,” was, Nico wasn’t looking forward to having it ripped out.

“Cover your ears, now,” whispered Will into Nico’s ear. He wasn’t sure what the healer was planning, but now wasn’t the time for questions. Nico put his hands over his ears and pressed, hard.

Actaeon gave an exasperated sigh and brought his fingers up to his lips to whistle again just as a piercing wail emitted from Will. Nico looked over to see that the son of Apollo was blowing into the handle of his dagger, playing it like a recorder, but the sound was several times louder than any normal recorder.

Actaeon immediately fell to his knees, clutching his head and apparently wailing in pain. His dogs looked to be in even more trouble, with several appearing simply to have passed out thanks to their doggy hearing.

Will stopped playing his dagger/recorder, shouted “GO!” and pushed Nico forward. That jolted Nico into action. He charged straight at the hunter, still crouched on the ground, holding his head. It was almost too easy. Nico ran him right through with his blade, but instead of being absorbed into the dark metal, the moment Actaeon’s disgusting flesh met the point of Nico’s sword, his whole body dissolved into black smoke and dissipated. Nico felt a cold shock up his arm like he’d both tried to hack apart a cliff and plunged his arm into freezing water. He nearly dropped his sword in shock, but managed to keep enough composure to turn and attack the hunter’s dogs.

The dogs, thankfully, were absorbed by his blade just fine, and together with Will, who was now wielding his dagger like an actual dagger, they slew the entire pack.

“Nice music skills, man,” Nico said, after it was all over. “I didn’t even know you could do that.”

“Thanks, Neeks,” Will responded.  _ Is he blushing? _ “Built it myself, actually. I already had the recorder, so I just cashed in a favor with one of the Hephaestus kids for a hollow dagger, and added the instrument part myself.”

“Look at you, all crafty.” This was getting dangerously close to flirting. Nico cast about for something else to say, and remembered how Actaeon had disappeared. He relayed the experience to Will, and the other demigod frowned.

“I’ve certainly never heard of that happening, but then, I’m not really an expert on these kinds of things,” he said. “We should probably bring it to Chiron, or the Athena cabin.”

Nico again noted the healer’s choice of words with a little involuntary skip in his heart, but he managed not to say anything about it.

_ Quiet down, dumbass. He’s just saying ‘we’ because we both were involved in this. Obviously we’d go to Chiron together. _

“Yeah, good idea,” Nico said after an uncomfortably long pause. “I guess...we should get going then? Back to the car?”

“Yeah…” Will sounded equally as awkward as Nico— _ at least he’s not upstaging me there _ —but then Nico saw a look of concern cross Will’s face. “You’re hurt,” he said, the concern evident in his voice, too.

“What?” Nico figured he would have remembered getting bitten or clawed by one of the dogs, and that hadn’t happened, but then Will reached out and touched his ear, and Nico remembered the arrow that had nicked him there. Will’s hand came away bloody.

“See?” he said, sounding a bit like a mother hen. “Sit down and let me take care of it.” Nico started to protest, but Will gave him a look and half-shoved him down, and Nico just decided to roll with it.

_ Gods he’s cute when he gets all concerned like this. _

Will pulled a bandage and disinfectant from his bag and took care of Nico’s ear, fussing over the tiny nick much more than one would normally expect from a friend, even someone as committed to medicine as Will was, but Nico tried not to let his mind run away with that observation. He was doing a great job not letting himself get carried away today. A fantastic job.

After Nico was taken care of, the two demigods made their way back to Will’s car, and then back to Camp Half-Blood without further incident.

Inside, Nico was smiling the whole way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! The traction and support this story has already received is amazing. Thank you everyone who read/left kudos!
> 
> On a separate note, the daily upload schedule has been...a lot, as the chapters get longer, and I'm afraid I'm losing track of some of my threads as this lengthens out, so I'm going to take a few days to take care of some personal stuff, make a few continuity edits, and reassess where I'm heading so I can make sure the plot doesn't just unravel or get boring.  
> Expect the next update on Monday, same general time as the last few, and daily updates will resume then!
> 
> See you all Monday!


	10. Can't Get Him Off My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico has another therapy session. Will needs some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back!

“I’ve never been to the Underworld, myself. What’s it like?” Reece’s question made Nico jump. He’d been gazing at a set of wind chimes on the wall of the solarium, letting his thoughts wander during a ten minute ‘meditation’ period the therapist had suggested.

“Oh,” he said, very intelligently. “I guess...I mean, it’s not as bad as people say, but it also kind of...is? I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask, being a son of Hades.”

“And why is that?” Nico detected a hint of insistent prodding-ness underneath the curiosity in Reece’s voice. He wasn’t sure that he liked that, but he continued anyway.

“Well, I’m more at home there than other demigods would be. For one thing, I’m actually welcome at my dad’s palace. Got my own room and everything.” He was staring at the chimes again, allowing his thoughts to run away. “And also...I mean, there’s no real light in the Underworld. And the souls in the Fields of Asphodel...they’re not really  _ real _ , either. They aren’t quite people anymore. They can’t ask me questions. They can’t judge me. I don’t have anything to prove to the dead.” Nico stopped abruptly. He hadn’t really considered why he felt so much safer in his father’s realm, except to figure it was because it was  _ his father’s _ , so it was where he belonged.

Reece leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful but saying nothing. Nico suddenly felt that the Roman was judging him, and he kicked himself for not keeping his mouth in check. He felt his heart rate begin to rise, and suddenly it wasn’t Reece sitting in front of him, it was Will, and the healer was judging him because of how he’d acted on their coffee date, which wasn’t a date so why was Nico calling it a date? And of course it wasn’t a date because Solace hadn’t asked him to do anything else since. It had been a week and they’d barely seen each other.

Suddenly, Nico felt a hand on his arm, and he had to fight the urge to rip it away and run out of the room, because there were no shadows in the solarium; or rather, there weren’t any strong enough to escape through.

“Woah, di Angelo.” Reece was speaking. That was good. Will wasn’t here, and if Reece was talking it meant he’d at least reveal how he was judging the son of Hades. “Your heart just took off,” he said. “I hope I wasn’t making you nervous.”

_ Making me nervous?! What right does he have to speak in that fake-conciliatory tone? Why won’t he just tell me what he thinks?! _

But no, no. That was the bad voice talking. The doubting voice. And while he couldn’t make it shut up, Nico could at least tell it to bide its time, now. He could stop it from coming out of his mouth.

“It’s fine.” That’s what he could settle with. “I was just...thinking about some stuff. I guess I hadn’t thought about the Underworld that way before.”

“Well, I’m glad you shared,” Reece responded, smiling that trademark Apollo smile, the one that graced Will’s lips far too often.  _ Gods, is  _ he _ the only thing you can think about? _

“No, I can imagine people who aren’t Will,” Nico answered the voice. Then he realized he’d answered it out loud, and slapped a hand to his mouth so quickly he ended up punching himself in the face, like a real hero. Then he contemplated falling on the floor, crawling under the table, and not coming out for a few years.

Reece, like an actual capital ‘G’ God, managed not to laugh at him, but he got a knowing look in his eye that both surprised and disconcerted the son of Hades.

“I wondered if that was who you were thinking about,” he said simply. He must have seen how Nico was ready to bolt because he held up a hand. “No, nobody told me anything, but the poem you picked when you first came here last week? He wrote it. He wrote that poem, and you were drawn to it instantly.” Nico was speechless. He couldn’t even run. Was everyone going to bring up his feelings for Will now? Even his therapist, who he’d already trusted with far too much?

Nico had gotten involved over the past week with a few of the camp activities. It turned out that Percy and Annabeth had been commuting to Camp on weekends from their high school in Manhattan, and that meant they weren’t always around to help with things like sword practice during the week, and Nico had picked up the slack. Who else was going to teach the little Hermes, Hephaestus and Athena kids how to survive out there?

That work, although it was indeed around other people, distracted him for most of the day from his thoughts about Will. The two had chatted in passing or in the infirmary during the several times Nico had had to bring in injured campers, but Will didn’t bring up their outing to the coffee shop or their fight with Actaeon, and Nico was too embarrassed to bring it up himself.

But, each time Nico had to leave the healer, to return to his training or to his cabin or even when they had to go off to separate tables for dinner, he missed the other demigod more than he liked to admit, and he looked forward to the next time he could say “Hello, Sunshine,” and see that smile in return.

That was why he never brought up their trip, or tried to say anything else, because the last time he’d tried to say anything meaningful, he’d fucked it all up and run away for two months. He’d just gotten used to even hanging out with people again. He didn’t want to gamble that for the sake of something more with Will.

Reece was talking again, shaking Nico from his mind, inviting him to share. “Because,” he said. “While we are here to talk about your experiences, and not necessarily about others, I think he factors into a lot of your experiences right now.”

In that moment, Reece’s voice drowned out the bad voice in Nico’s head, and the son of Hades found himself relaying his thoughts and worries to the Roman—well, not directly to him. He relayed his thoughts to the wind chimes and Reece sat patiently and listened in. He thought he might really be going too far with the whole ‘trusting someone with his thoughts’ thing by doing this, but he’d already crossed his own line at least twice this hour, so what was the harm in crossing it again?

When he was finished, his therapist sat back again, but spoke much sooner than before. “It’s good that you shared this. Our romantic feelings are, in a way, much more dear to us than even our trauma, especially as demigods, since our lives are so defined by it.” He paused and cleared his throat. “For my money, although I’m not an expert in attraction, I think you two really do like each other. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you two talk, the way he always glances in your direction at dinner, and I think he’s feeling a lot of what you’re feeling. I think he’s just as worried about screwing up your friendship as you are, and I think your best option is to show him you’re interested in getting closer. It doesn’t have to be huge, but it does have to be noticeably further than your current interaction.”

“So…” Nico pondered, “you’re saying I have to make the next move?”

“In a nutshell, yes. Also,” he glanced out the window, “I believe our time’s up. Same time next week?”

“Oh...Yeah, sure,” Nico answered.

“See you then.” The smile was back on Reece’s face, reassuring Nico, showing the other demigod’s gratitude for what he had shared with him. Nico rose from his seat and left the solarium, thoughts swirling through his head, thankfully too confused to be very depressing, for the moment. Could he even have the courage to make the next move? Why did the very thought make his stomach feel worse than facing down a horde of Dracaenae?

Too soon, the opportunity came. In a brilliant streak of deja vu, Nico ran into Will in the main room of the Apollo cabin. The healer was rummaging through his messenger bag and muttering to himself.

“Hello, Sunshine,” Nico said. The nickname had become his standard greeting, whatever it may mean.

Will looked up. “Hey, Nico!”  _ There’s that smile again _ .

“What’s up?”

“Oh, I was just stopping by here looking for some supplies. We’ve got another climbing wall casualty—fourth of the day, and we’re so understaffed right now I haven’t been able to send anyone to stock up.”

“Sounds like a lot.” Nico didn’t have anything clever to say. Nothing witty, or cool, even as the idea for how he could get closer to the son of Apollo took annoyingly clear shape in his mind.

“Yeah...Kayla was actually scolding Chris Rodriguez when he brought the latest one in. Demeter kid named Cliff.” Will smirked, as if the horrible burning of a pre-teen was some fantastic joke. In a way, it kind of was, with the Apollo cabin’s healing powers and the properties of Ambrosia and Nectar.

“I can imagine.” Nico couldn’t. He barely knew Kayla. He forced himself just to say the phrase he’d composed as Will talked. “You said you’re understaffed? Maybe I could help?” It was crazy. A son of the lord of death helping to heal people? Maybe in some upside-down world, but it was what Nico seized on.

Will, surprisingly, looked relieved—and maybe a little excited?—“Yeah that would actually be great,” he said. “Let me just grab some Honeysuckle and we’ll be right on our way—if you’re good with that?”

“Yeah,” Nico answered. Will smiled again, gave him a strange little wink, and dove into one of the doors leading off the main room.

“Yeah,” Nico muttered to himself. “Great idea. Just...wonderful idea.”

_ Maybe it even is, di Angelo _ , said Reece’s voice in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the next few chapters plotted out (at least, I know what I want to happen in each), and I think I'll be switching to every other day for updates so that I can keep more careful track of these. 
> 
> With that in mind, if anyone would like to help me by beta-reading new chapters, drop me a dm [on tumblr](https://unfotunatenoldo.tumblr.com). See y'all Wednesday!


	11. Oof Ouch Owie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico and Will treat a child for his hurty.

Nico and Will walked side-by-side down to the camp infirmary, which was situated about halfway between the forges and the training arena. Nico wondered if it had been put there because those were the two most dangerous parts of camp.

_ Then again, what part of camp  _ isn’t _ dangerous? _

Neither demigod spoke, and the silence was equal parts comforting and intolerable to Nico. He wished Will would strike up a conversation, but then he would have to come up with things to say in response, and after going through a whole hour of saying things to Reece, he was tapped out.

He looked at the healer beside him, and imagined he saw something of his own nervous energy reflected back at him, but he refused to acknowledge that perception. He spent the rest of the walk analyzing it.

The camp infirmary was a place that Nico had become quite familiar with over the past week. Outside, it looked rather like the Apollo cabin, being two stories and built out of the same honey-colored wood, except for the entrance, which looked like the entrance to an ancient Greek temple, flanked by Ionic columns and capped with a triangular block of white marble decorated with a painted relief. The only distinguishing feature of the entrance was that the relief depicted scenes of healers and doctors throughout history, as recent as the Vietnam War, which Nico supposed must have been when the infirmary was constructed, or at least when it was last renovated.

Inside was a curious hodge-podge of camp-cabin furniture and decoration, modern medical equipment, ancient Greek iconography, and what looked like a medieval apothecary. An altar to Apollo dominated one end of the main room, set next to an examination table and a rack of dried plants and fungus. A small pharmacy opened right off the entrance, providing everything from Ambrosia to Advil to crushed Mandrake Root. There were lots of windows letting in the sun, and a staircase leading up into the ceiling, where Nico knew the private rooms were.

“Hey, Cliff!” shouted Will as they entered. “I’m back. Got just what you need, buddy.” Will pulled a plant from his bag and sprinted forward toward a sandy-haired kid with a delicate face and big brown eyes rimmed with red from crying. His shirt was off, revealing a huge burn mark splashed across his upper torso that he kept looking at before wincing in pain.. Nico’s heart went out to the kid immediately. Getting hit by the lava was  _ not _ fun. And, Nico thought as he crossed to the kid, he reminded him of someone, a kid who’d once walked this camp, nervous and hopeful and so, so unready.

“Who’s that?” asked Cliff as he noticed Nico approaching. “I haven’t seen him here before.”

“He’s here to help me help  _ you _ out,” Will said, poking Cliff in the stomach on the word ‘you.’ The healer turned, smirking. “Would you like to introduce yourself, Nico?”

“Uh...sure,” Nico said. He was really getting good at that response. “I’m Nico—obviously, since he just said it,” he continued, pointing to Will. “And I guess...yeah I’m just here to help out...some.”

“But you’re  _ old _ ,” said the boy. “How come I haven’t seen you before? Are you a Roman?”

Under different circumstances, Nico might have gotten annoyed at being called  _ old _ , but the way that Cliff said it he couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, I’m not Roman,” he said, holding back more giggles. He wondered what the kid would think if he brought Hazel over from Camp Jupiter. “I’ve just…been busy, the past few months. When did you get here?” His therapist was one thing; he definitely didn’t want to talk about his absence to some random kid, and he wouldn’t be caught dead explaining the reason for it in front of Will.

“July.” While Nico and the kid were talking, Will had moved over to a side table, crushed his plant, mixed it with some nectar, and soaked a cloth from his bag in the resulting soup. Will crossed behind the kid with the cloth and mimed at Nico to keep talking.

“July?” Nico continued, nonchalantly. “So you’ve been here four months?” The kid nodded. “Cool!” Nico tried to put enthusiasm into his voice, tried to recall the way Reece had talked to him. “So how old does that make you now?”

“Twelve and a half,” said Cliff, looking proud of himself. He seemed to have forgotten all about his injury by now, and Will chose that moment to act, circling his cloth deftly around the boy’s torso such that the nectar-and-plant-soaked part was over the burned flesh, and beginning immediately to tie it off at the shoulder.

“OW!” Cliff yelped, looking both surprised and in pain, although the pain seemed to vanish from his face in the same instant it arrived.

“And we’re done! Great job, Cliff. You were very brave,” Will said, giving the kid a high five as he finished the knot. He shot Nico a grateful smile over the son of Demeter’s head, and Nico felt as though a balloon had been inflated under his ribcage, ready to lift him up into the air.

“Now,” the healer continued, “we’re going to get you into a bed and you’re going to get some sleep while this heals. Alright?” Cliff nodded, and Will led him over to a bunk beside three other sleeping demigods hooked up to heart rate monitors. He murmured something to the boy before hooking him up to another monitor and coming back over to Nico.

“Hey, dude, thanks for your help. A distraction is often just what these kids need, especially their first time getting seriously injured,” he said, and Nico felt the balloon grow even bigger.

“Yeah, of course,” he managed. “To be honest, I didn’t even know I could talk to kids like that. I’m usually, well, you know.” Nico began to blush.

Will just smiled like the sun. “Of course you can talk to kids. I’ve seen you working with the younger demigods in the arena. This is just like that.”

“But that’s different. That’s all swords and shields and ‘keep your guard up.’ In here, you have to take care of people when things go wrong.”

Will gave him an overdramatic incredulous look. Nico thought his eyebrows might pop off his face. “And things don’t ever go wrong in the arena? You’ve never had to console some 13-year-old who just got crushed by Clarisse, and feels like she’ll never survive a minute outside of our borders?”

“I guess, when you put it that way…There was one kid. Kara Liu, daughter of Hermes. But I just...you know, I just told her it was no big deal, that Clarisse has been training forever and she’s a goddamn daughter of Ares.”

“And did this Kara feel better after you talked to her?” Will quirked his mouth up on one side like he already knew the answer, which Nico supposed he did.

“Yeah, she did, I guess. I told her that story you told me at the coffee shop about how Percy broke her spear in capture the flag that one time, and then showed her some stuff about countering spears, and she seemed pretty happy after that, yeah.” Nico then realized he’d mentioned their coffee “date” and blushed even harder than before.

Will seemed not to have noticed. “Of course she felt better! You actually do have charisma when you let yourself, di Angelo.” Nico, for once, couldn’t read the look in Will’s eyes. There was so much noise in his face—about as much as Nico felt going through his own mind at the moment.

But before either of them could call attention to it, a camper Nico recognized as Cecil Markowitz ran in through the entrance.

“There you are!” he exclaimed, having spotted Nico. “You’re wanted—at the Big House. They’re having a discussion and Chiron asked for you.”

Nico was confused and a little annoyed by this. What could Chiron need from him right now? He was having a really good talk with Will! He might actually be getting somewhere!

_ That’s what you think _ .

He told the voice to shut up and answered Cecil, sighing. “I imagine you have no idea what this discussion is about?”

Cecil shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. They just told me to find you and bring you back.”

“Who is  _ they _ , anyway?”

“Uhh...Chiron, Mr. D, a few counselors...and I think they said something about contacting Percy and Annabeth?” he said uncertainly. “I just got kind of roped into this. Will you come?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll come.” Nico sighed again, and then an idea popped into his head. Will was a counselor. He should be welcome if others were...

Nico turned to the son of Apollo, who had another unreadable look on his face. “Come with?” he inquired, trying not to sound pleading.

Another grin spread across the healer’s face before abruptly vanishing. He scratched the back of his head, looking around at his sleeping patients and the light disarray of his medical supplies. “I’m kinda busy…” he began, before snatching up his messenger bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “But I think I can make some time.” He gave Nico a wink, and Nico’s heart skipped a beat.

_ That’s got to be a sign of something, right? _

Then the two of them followed Cecil out of the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just realized that Wicked and Dear Evan Hansen provide like, a perfect dichotomy reflecting Nico's development, just in the contrast between their 11 o'clock numbers (Defying Gravity vs. You Will be Found. Go listen to them if you haven't they're great). I literally just picked Wicked because I like it. I love that it fits (and yes the poster will become a thing again in the future).


	12. Council, Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News is shared. A few answers are found. An assignment is given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice long one today. Enjoy <3

Camp Half-Blood was quiet in the late afternoon light. The three demigods didn’t stop to talk to anyone as they made their way across the cabin area and up to the big house, where Mr. D was waiting for them, a Diet Coke clutched in his hand and an uncharacteristically worried expression flitting across his face.

“Ah, yes, Nico, good,” he said distractedly, forgetting to get Nico’s name wrong. “Thank you Cecil; you may go.” The wine god’s thanking of the son of Hermes really set the alarm bells off in Nico’s head. Something was definitely wrong. Cecil seemed to have a similar idea, because he stuck around.

“Um, sir?” inquired Nico. It was always a good idea to be polite with the camp director (when he wasn’t in a mood, that is). “Can you tell us why we were summoned?” Without thinking about it, he had included Will in his question.

“Us?” repeated Mr. D. Then he noticed Will standing beside Nico, and Cecil trying to be unobtrusive behind the two. “What are you doing here, Billiam?” he said, regaining a little of his normal apathy. He attempted a scowl in the direction of the healer but succeeded only in fixing a half-grimace on his face.

“I heard that there were other senior counselors here, and I thought…” Will cast about, clearly looking for a better reason than ‘I was curious.’ “I thought I might be able to provide some useful input, depending on what’s going on.”

His answer seemed to satisfy Mr. D, who grunted and turned to Cecil, making a shooing gesture at the son of Hermes. “While the counselor for Apollo’s cabin is...welcome, Seasick, you are not. Go, before I turn you into a Porpoise.”

Cecil looked deflated, but resolutely turned and walked back towards the cabins. Mr. D’s last show of nonchalance seemed to have exhausted him, Nico thought, and he turned a weary eye toward the two remaining demigods. “I suppose you two had better come inside. Come on,” he finished, waving a hand at the door.

Will and Nico automatically made their way into the rec room (ever the scene of Camp Half-Blood’s most serious councils), where they found Miranda Gardiner from the Demeter cabin, Malcolm Pace from Athena, and an Ares kid Nico didn’t know the name of, but recognized from the arena and from mealtimes, along with Chiron, seated at the ping-pong table in wheelchair form, and Grover, who was nervously munching on a bag of potato chips.

Everyone looked up at Nico and Will when they entered, which made him want to crawl into a corner and vanish, as usual, but Will must have seen the look on his face— _ really? I need to get better at controlling those _ —because he gave Nico another one of those frustratingly unreadable looks _ —although there was definitely concern in it, that’s for sure _ —before reaching out and giving Nico’s hand a squeeze with his own, flashing him a smile, and practically skipping up to the ping-pong table. The healer promptly squirted an obscene amount of Cheese Whiz onto a cracker from the provided plate, popped it in his mouth, and chewed loudly as he sat down.

Nico stood stunned for only half a second—he hoped—before composing himself and taking the only available chair, which was, of course, right next to Will’s seat. He fervently hoped no one had noticed whatever had flitted across his or Will’s face, despite the fact that they had all been looking right at him.

“What are we here for?” the son of Apollo inquired briskly. At least the bastard had the decency to break the silence. “From what Cecil told us, it sounded pretty urgent.”

_ There’s that plural pronoun again. _

_ Not now _ , Nico told himself. He focused instead on twisting his skull ring around his finger, which allowed him to focus enough to listen to Chiron’s explanation.

“Wasn’t expecting you to come, William, but either way it’s probably good that you’re here,” said the centaur. “I’ll start from the beginning. Nico here brought information to myself and Mr. D concerning a monster lurking in the shallow waters on the South Shore of Lake Michigan.” He recounted Nico’s description of the monster, and explained to the room Nico’s feeling of  _ wrongness _ that the monster had inspired.

“I spoke with Percy Jackson, and, when he could not explain the monster, with his father, and something happened during our conversation that troubles me greatly,” he continued. Everyone in the room was listening with rapt attention; all thoughts of his momentary embarrassment were driven from Nico’s mind. “He began by saying he’d never heard of a beast like that before, but that he would question all the deep-sea spirits who were loyal to him, but then, all around him the sea floor began to rumble, and a voice that was not his issued seemingly from the rock all around him.” Chiron paused for breath, and Miranda spoke up.

“What did it say?” was all she asked.

“It is  _ abomination _ .” Chiron paused again, considering. “Then everything returned to normal, and Poseidon acted as though nothing had happened. I did not know what to make of it, but I resolved not to bring it to his attention. Instead, I worked with Annabeth to pour over some of our older books, and we found mentions, laced throughout the very earliest texts we have at camp, of beasts which the writers refused to name, but which they described, when they described them at all, in disturbing similarity to the monster that Nico encountered.”

Everyone around the table was silent for a minute following Chiron’s account. Finally, the Ares kid spoke up. “So, what I’m hearing from this is that we should kill it, right? Big bad scary monster. Demigods.” He pointed all around the table. “Monster gone. Is there something I’m missing?”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “It’s not that simple, Sherman. I don’t understand it so well myself, but from what I gathered, it seems these monsters don’t exactly obey the laws of Olympus.”

“Laws of Olympus? What are you talking about, Malcolm? Monsters don’t obey  _ any  _ laws. That’s why we kill them,” retorted Sherman. Malcolm opened his mouth to respond in kind, but Katie stepped in, shushing them both and pointing off to Nico’s right.

“Looks like someone might want to weigh in, boys. I’m betting it’s Annabeth, so how about you stop your bickering?” she said. Nico looked to where she was pointing and saw that a curtain of rainbow-y mist had appeared on the right wall. The mist was flashing intermittently. A collect call.

“Oh good, Annabelle,” drawled Mr. D at the mist. Chiron, who had been looking more and more exasperated as Sherman and Malcolm began arguing, now looked relieved. He pulled a drachma from off the ping-pong table and tossed it into the mist. The curtain shimmered, and Annabeth came into view, standing in what looked like a deserted classroom.

“Annabeth,” said Chiron. “Glad you got my message. I’ve just filled everyone in on the situation.”

“Hey, Chiron,” answered Annabeth. Sorry I couldn’t call in earlier. Percy just got out of swim practice.” Nico privately wondered what Percy’s swim practice had to do with anything. “How far did you get?” she continued. In answer, Sherman yelled from across the table, “Why can’t we just send someone to kill it?”

Comprehension flashed across Annabeth’s face, followed by a look that seemed to Nico to be the willful suppression of an eye roll. “It’s not that simple, Yang. These monsters don’t obey our laws.”  
There was a collective groan around the table. Before Sherman could give the exact same retort he gave Malcolm, Katie asked in a placating voice, “Annabeth, what exactly do you mean by ‘our laws?’”

Annabeth frowned for a moment before answering. “All Greek monsters follow a certain natural order—the cycle of death, return to Tartarus, and eventual rebirth and reentry into the mortal world. These monsters, well, they aren’t part of that cycle. They can be hurt by divine weapons, but actually  _ killing _ them requires you to find and sever their tether to the mortal world. We don’t know where they come  _ from _ , but the heroes who quested for them seemed to always be seeking a gate or connection of some sort.”

Nico remembered the way Actaeon had dissolved into smoke, and how he had spoken of his ‘new master,’ and had a horrible thought.

“Annabeth?” he piped up. “Say you tried to kill one of these monsters directly. Would it do something like dissolve into smoke?”

“It’s conceivable. Why do you ask?”

Nico relayed his and Will’s encounter with Actaeon, giving careful attention to what had happened when he’d tried to kill the hunter. Annabeth’s brow furrowed ever more as he spoke, with Will occasionally stepping in to add some detail he had missed.

When he was finished, Chiron, Mr. D, and Annabeth all looked even more troubled than before. “I don’t like this,” Annabeth said. “Not one bit. If Greek figures can somehow ally themselves with these powers, that could spell real trouble for our ability to kill monsters at all.”

No one spoke for a while after that. Grover finished the last of his chip bag, nervously grinding the cellophane between his teeth. Will gave up on the pretense of spraying crackers and upended the Cheese Whiz straight into his mouth. It would’ve been funny if Nico hadn’t been so worried.

Eventually, Chiron spoke up. “It doesn’t seem as though there’s much we  _ can  _ do for now except to watch, to keep a careful lookout for further signs of these intruders, and perhaps to send a quest to investigate this lake creature Nico encountered further.”

Grover raised a hand, before shaking his head and just speaking. “I can alert nature spirits across the country. I suppose that’s obvious, but if it helps…”

“Yes, good,” said Annabeth, smiling at him. “I second the idea of sending a quest after the monster, but I think it should probably be only two demigods, at least to begin with. We don’t know how these powers will react to us, so it’s best to keep our numbers as low as possible while staying safe.”

A murmur of assent ran around the table. Chiron appeared deep in thought. Mr. D looked as though he wanted to leave.

“Any volunteers?” Malcolm ventured, weakly. When no one answered, Nico felt a sense of resigned dread settle into the pit of his stomach. He’d have to be the one to go back. He could shadow-travel; he’d already seen the monster once; he was experienced with the weirder and more dangerous side of Greek mythology, being a son of Hades. All that meant he was the perfect candidate.

Darkly, glaring at the table, he said, “I’ll go. I’ve seen it before, and my powers will be useful.”

Almost immediately, before anyone else could even register what he had said, Nico heard Will’s voice at his side. “I’ll go with you.” He punched Nico lightly on the arm, making the son of Hades look up, and Nico saw he was smiling. “You’ll need someone to keep you from melting into a puddle of shadow, won’t you di Angelo?”

A mess of emotions flooded their way into Nico’s mind. His heart swelled, fit to burst, his face burned, and his stomach twisted in knots, but before he could try and process any of it, he heard Malcolm let out a sigh from across the table.

“That’s settled, then,” said the son of Athena. “As long as there are no objections?”

Nico glanced around the table, alternately begging in his mind for someone to speak up and hoping that no one would. No one did, but Nico did see a mingled look of worry and satisfaction cross Annabeth’s face as his gaze met hers.

Chiron cleared his throat. “Good, then. We have a quest. Counselors, I believe you all have somewhere to be. Grover, you and I should talk before you start alerting nature spirits.” Then he turned to face Nico and Will. “I believe you two have some packing to do. I will try to contact Rachel, and see if she has a prophecy she can offer on the matter.”

Mind still reeling, Nico got up and left the rec room. He could feel Will behind him all the way down to the cabins.

_ Now look what you’ve gotten yourself into. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Road trip time! Get ready to turn up the Solangelo big time.
> 
> Also an editorial note: since this fic takes place the October after HoO, I oopsied by referencing Clarisse, who should be at college, in the last chapter. I’m fixing my canon here by declaring, word of god, that Clarisse returns by Pegasus every other weekend to maintain her training (sort of how I’m just pulling Percabeth in from their senior year). Sherman, however, is indeed the head counselor for Ares.  
> Why am I keeping careful track of characters’ canon paths when I had no problem completely rebuilding and moving the infirmary? Don’t worry about it.


	13. Gone Fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico gets a gift from Percy.

_Is anybody waving back at me?_

Nico stared down into his sword, the soundtrack from the musical Reece had recommended blasting from his TV. It was a funny song to have playing over his contemplation, because right now it did look as though someone was waving back at him from the depths of the Stygian Iron. He wasn’t sure who it was.

_What the hell am I gonna do now?_ He was going on a quest, with _Will_ , and it was to face a kind of creature none of them had any experience with. They could both wind up dead without even knowing why. They could wind up with a fate worse than death. Was that worth dragging Will into?

And anyway, why had he volunteered to go in the first place? And why so quickly? It was a promising sign, and that’s what scared Nico the most. Not only could he be leading his crush into a deadly trap of epic proportions, his entire imagination had absolutely run away with this “evidence.” Every time he closed his eyes, he saw himself and Will, sitting on his couch, or on the edge of the forest, or at dinner, talking, cuddling, kiss—

And that was the moment he shut down his imagination, angry tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t live with the pain of wondering anymore. He had to do something about this awful dance, and soon.

Suddenly, the waving image became startlingly clear in his sword. It was Percy. At the same time, someone knocked loudly on his door.

“Nico, I know you’re in there! I want to talk to you before you leave,” shouted a voice that undoubtedly belonged to the son of Poseidon.

It was a testament to the emotional change his return to Camp Half-Blood had wrought in him that Nico didn’t shadow-travel the hell out of there on the spot. “Just a minute!” he shouted back, hurriedly rising from his bed and waving a hand at his TV, which, thanks to its Underworld technology, responded to his command and shut itself off.

Nico crept up to the door and pulled it open apprehensively, revealing a very jovial-looking Percy with his arms outstretched.

“Hey, Ghost King!” Percy smirked. “Long time no see!” He stepped forward into the cabin, preparing to wrap his arms around the son of Hades.

“No hugs.” The words came out colder than he had intended. “Sorry,” he added hurriedly. “Just...not right now, okay?”

Percy held up his hands in mock surrender. “Your wish is my command, your majesty.” He slipped past Nico and into the cabin.

“Why are you here?” Nico put his hands on his hips, then crossed them, then returned them to his hips.

“Just wanted to have a chat with my favorite son of Hades,” answered Percy mildly as he strolled around Nico’s space. He spun around, suddenly serious. “And, I have something to give you.”

“I see…” said Nico suspiciously. “By the way, how did you even get here?”

“Mrs. O’Leary. Wasn’t too long a trip for her, but she’s still passed out in the middle of the arena right now.”  
Nico snorted involuntarily. “She’ll be an interesting obstacle for fighters to clear.” Nico began to relax; now that he had someone else to obsess over, he could appreciate Percy properly, as just another goofy friend and sometime companion on dangerous quests. Just like the rest of the seven.

“So, what did you bring me?” he inquired, sitting down lightly in one of the armchairs and twisting his silver ring absentmindedly.

In answer, Percy pulled a circle of aquamarine about four inches in diameter from the back pocket of his jeans and offered it to Nico. A bronze trident was embedded in the center, and it was etched around the edge with an inscription in ancient greek.

_ὅτῳ φέρει τόδε σύμβολον ὀ Ποσειδῶν δῐδωσῐ ὁδόν καὶ γέρᾰς διᾱ τοῦ χώρᾱς_

As Nico watched, his brain automatically decoded the writing into English.

_To the bearer of this token, Poseidon grants passage and privilege through his domain._

“It’s imbued with the power of Poseidon,” Percy said. “As long as you hold on to it, you and whoever you touch gain the ability to breathe underwater, not get wet, not be crushed by the pressure underwater, and swim much faster. It’s the least I could do since I can’t come along.”

Nico turned the circle over and chuckled. On the back was written “GONE FISHING” in big block letters, surrounded by carvings of happy sea creatures. He held it up to Percy questioningly.

“Not my idea,” said Percy, holding his hands up again, but Nico could see he was trying not to giggle. “Tyson made it, with a bit of help from my dad.”

“Well, thank you,” Nico said. “I’m sure it’ll help, assuming we have to actually go into Lake Michigan.”

“On that ‘we’ subject,” Percy interjected, “how are you feeling about going with Will? I know you like him…”

Anger flared up inside Nico’s stomach, frothing and boiling with nowhere to go. “That’s private,” he said coldly. “And I’ll thank you to keep out of it.”

“Come on, dude,” Percy said, making placating gestures. “I just want to help out a little. I think he really likes you. I’ve heard him talk; I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The way you both look at each other, actually, now.”

“No you haven’t.” Nico was suddenly confused. “You’ve been at your High School.”

“Not all the time,” Percy answered. “Annabeth and I came down last weekend because Annabeth was helping Chiron research this monster. And besides, I snuck a peek through the Iris Message today.”

“Fine, then. You’ve seen us. What about it?” The ice was dripping from Nico’s voice.

“It’s pretty obvious you both like each other. And,” Percy put a hand over his chest like he was making a promise, “as a _man_ , I thought you might want some relationship advice from the _guy_ side of things.”

“You realize the hole in your logic, right?” Nico responded. “This isn’t a normal crush. I’m not a normal guy.”

“Of course you’re a normal guy!” Percy looked incensed. “You’re certainly as awkward around him as I used to be around Annabeth. Come on, di Angelo. Tell me your worries.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “Just to get you out of here, I will.” He proceeded to tell Percy about his worry of dragging Will into danger, and his frustration and fear over their dynamic. Percy listened politely all the way through, occasionally saying things like “yeah” and “I get that.”

“I totally get that,” he said when Nico was finished. “Letting someone you like go into danger...that’s hard, but that’s what we have to do as demigods. Have you considered maybe that he really does want to go for you? That maybe he wants you to be safe just as much as you want him to be?”

“I guess…?” Nico shrugged and crossed his arms, looking over at a tapestry of a barbecue taking place in Elysium. The idiot had a point, annoyingly enough. “But, of course, that’s assuming he likes me.”

Percy threw up his hands. “I’ll never get through to you if you don’t accept _that_. If you’re really that conflicted, just fuckin’ kiss him and see how he responds.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Percy paused, smirking, then stood up. “Anyway, good luck on your quest and hope the gift helps. I have to get home now or my mom’s gonna kill me.” And with that, he left Nico alone in his cabin.

After a moment longer staring at the tapestry, Nico picked up his bag, which he had packed an hour ago, and made to leave the cabin with it. Then he realized they wouldn’t be leaving until tomorrow morning, and flopped down onto his bed instead, staring at the onyx ceiling.

_ Gods what I would give for some barbecue right now. _

_ Wait, that’s new. I don’t usually get hungry. I suppose it’s dinner now, too. _

_ What a thought, to actually be hungry at dinnertime. Weird. _

Nico rose and left the cabin, heading for the dining pavilion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit late. I decided I wanted to translate the inscription properly into Ancient Greek, which took forever since I haven’t actually learned it. Any Ancient Greek scholars are free to check my grammar and complain :P


	14. A Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico has a moment. Will can make things do music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who read chapter 13 when I posted it, I had to edit the end, because it doesn’t make sense to me to begin the journey at night. Nico gets up to go to dinner, not to go find Will.

Nico was woken the next morning by a soft knock on his cabin door. He sat up, bleary-eyed in his four-poster, and yelled out “Who is it now?”

“Your worst nightmare,” replied the bright and unmistakable voice of Will Solace. Warmth flooded Nico’s chest, which was a little inconvenient, considering he was already piled underneath several layers of very warm sheets.

“Annabeth with a bee onesie? I never thought I’d see the day,” he called out. He heard a chuckle from behind the door, and the warmth became almost unbearable. That forced him out of bed.

“Just a minute!” he yelled at the same time Will yelled “I’m coming in!” And as Nico’s feet touched the ground, his door flew open, revealing the son of Apollo with a smile as sunny as his voice, dressed in a solid sky-blue shirt and an orange-checkered flannel. Nico took a moment to notice the way his hair tumbled down over his forehead before remembering  _ he _ was wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and an oversized  _ My Chemical Romance _ t-shirt.

_ So not only am I half-naked, I’m also cringe. Great look. _

“Jesus fuck!” Nico screamed, jumping behind the curtain of his bed. “Get out of my cabin. NOW.” In his panic, he accidentally called upon his powers, causing the shadows around him to gather and physically push a now white-faced Will out of his door before slamming it behind him. Nico collapsed back onto his bed and began to shake, then to sob into his pillow.

_ Nice work, di Angelo. You actually managed to  _ literally _ push him away this time. But then, you’re not surprised, are you? You shouldn’t be. Percy didn’t know you. Annabeth didn’t know you. Reece didn’t know you, either. They were all too optimistic, because they didn’t understand what’s wrong with you. _

The thoughts spun around like a washing machine in Nico’s brain, methodically scrubbing out the positivity of the last week. He contemplated sinking right back down into his bed, maybe shadow-traveling to his bed in the Underworld for a while, maybe going…

But then, where would he go? Camp Half-Blood was the closest thing to a home he’d had since his mother died, nearly eighty years before. If he left now, he’d probably wander, purposeless, until he merged right in with the spirits trapped in Asphodel. Maybe that would be peaceful, in its own way. He could leave all his pain and all his responsibility behind him.

He felt a strange kind of emptiness fill his chest then, quite different from the warmth that had bloomed there only a few minutes ago. Had it been only a few minutes? Or an hour? However long it had been, the emptiness was different than his usual feeling. If he had to describe it, he might say it was violet; or rather, it was unwanted. It wasn’t part of him anymore—it was an invader.

It was as this thought crossed Nico’s mind that he became aware of a soft acoustic guitar riff permeating his cabin. He raised his head from his pillow and cautiously drew back the curtains.

There, just in front of the cabin door, was a note, from which emanated the guitar. It intrigued Nico enough that he got up from the bed and went to open it. Inside was one line, written in the untidy handwriting that Nico had seen on Will’s infirmary reports and other notes.

_ Just don’t disappear on me again, okay? I like having you around. _

For a moment, Nico considered tearing the note apart. Then, he felt the warmth begin to fill him up again, banishing the definitely-unwanted emptiness to where he was utterly confused how his thoughts could have turned down the path they had so easily. He laughed out loud at the thought that he had actually considered leaving again. Will cared about him. Percy and Annabeth, too, and Reece. Whether they understood him fully or not, they were trying, and that had to count for something.

_ I need to remember that. _

Walking up toward the Apollo cabin, now dressed in his normal black jeans, t-shirt and aviator jacket, Nico began to feel a bit apprehensive. It was silly, what he’d done back in his cabin—a childish tantrum. He began to question Will’s note. Maybe he’d changed his mind in the interim. Maybe Nico had missed some crucial piece of subtext in the single, very clear line.

Too late now, as he spotted the healer sitting on the porch beside the cabin door. Before he could turn away, Will spotted him, too, and a clear look of relief broke across his face.

“Nico!” he shouted, before getting up from his seat, running across the green, and wrapping the son of Hades in a hug.

“Woah, hello, Sunshine,” said Nico, momentarily taken aback at the physical affection. He found he didn’t mind it nearly as much coming from Will as he had from Percy.

Will pulled back slightly to look at Nico’s face. “You got my note, then?” he said, grinning.

“Yeah,” Nico replied. Then, feeling the shame well up hotly in the top of his head, he continued, “I’m sorry I freaked out like that and pushed you out I don’t know what I was doing it was crazy and just...I don’t know.”  
“You feel bad. Apology accepted,” Will said seriously. “Although, in my opinion, you didn’t need to give it. It was a pretty awkward moment for both of us and I probably shouldn’t have just barged in…” he trailed off and Nico noticed that his ears had turned pink. He suddenly became very aware of how close together they were, and had been for several seconds now, and hurried to disentangle himself as he felt a flush of his own creep up his neck and down his groin.

“Not now…” he hissed under his breath.

“What?” Will asked.

“Nothing.”

The two demigods stood staring at each other for a moment without speaking. Nico thought the awkwardness might kill him if he let it go on any longer.

“We should probably go, shouldn’t we?” he ventured.

“Yeah, yeah,” Will answered. “Just let me get my bag, and we’ll be off.”

Will disappeared into his cabin, returning a moment later wearing a small backpack instead of his usual messenger back. When Nico gave him a questioning look, he chuckled.

“I figured that the constant bouncing against my ass would probably be a hindrance in a fight,” he said flippantly. Nico shrugged and turned up toward Half-Blood Hill in the distance. He didn’t have an answer to that.

There were no other demigods waiting to say goodbye to the healer and the Ghost King. Chiron had found them after dinner the previous night (a dinner Nico had spent trying very hard not to stare at Will as he joked with his siblings), and explained to them that he wished their quest to proceed more or less without the knowledge of the camp. He also told them that he had been in contact with Rachel, but she had felt not even a stirring of the Spirit of Delphi, so they had figured there was no prophecy forthcoming. Sometimes it was the case with quests; sometimes there was no prophecy, but Nico, personally, couldn’t shake the feeling that the lack of input from the gods was related to the nature of their enemy.

Nico and Will stopped in the shade of Thalia’s pine, where they had met only a week ago for a much less dangerous outing, although, predictably, that one had also ended with a fight. Nico, reluctant to go, cast about for something to say, something that might keep the two of them here for a little while longer. He eventually found something.

“What about the infirmary?” he asked, breaking the solemn silence that had followed the two of them up the hill.

“Oh, I just handed it off to Kayla. She’ll do a good job, I’m sure,” Will answered haltingly. He didn’t look like he wanted very much to go, either.

“Oh. Cool,” said Nico, because he was just so good at small talk. 

There was no delaying it any longer, though. “Take my hand,” Nico said. The feeling of the son of Apollo’s hand enfolding his sent vibrations through his chest, like an engine finally turning over. He became very aware of the breeze on his face, the way the collar of his jacket sat on his neck, and every little contour in Will’s hand. It gave him the strength to step forward, like it had in the council room (yes, despite the awkwardness of it).

“Here we go,” Nico whispered. He reached out with his mind and willed the shadows of the swaying branches to open before him and the healer, swallowing them in rushing darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I apologize for my lateness. This chapter proved to be rather tricky, and I had to split it in two. Because of that, I'll be posting the next chapter tomorrow instead of two days from now, before returning to the regular schedule.
> 
> Cheers :)


	15. Travel, Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico and Will have their first big test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! This is (I'm pretty sure) the longest chapter so far by a decent margin, and a lot happens in it. We're finally shifting into high gear. Enjoy :D

Nico felt Will’s breath on him for their entire journey. He focused on it and the feeling of the other boy’s hand clasped tightly in his, using those sensations to pull him through the unfamiliar roads. After an indeterminate time, he felt the deeper dark that was their exit appear before them, and he willed it to retreat and reveal the day.

The two demigods tumbled out of the shadow of an oak bedecked with red-gold autumn leaves. Dragging non-underworld things through the shadow roads was always significantly harder than pushing through them himself, and Nico collapsed immediately, feeling like he’d just run a marathon in five minutes. Will’s hand slipped out of his.

Immediately the son of Apollo gave an alarmed cry. “Dude, are you alright? Nico?” he rushed around to where Nico had fallen and grasped him by the shoulders.

“S’alright…” Nico slurred. “Just...s’justalot, harder than I thought.” He chuckled weakly. “You don’t go through shadow easily, Sunshine.” Nico smiled tiredly up at the healer’s worried expression.

“Alright.” Will didn’t look convinced, but some of the tension did go out of his shoulders. “I’m gonna get you something to eat, death boy. It’s a good thing we still have the afternoon for you to rest up.” He immediately slung off his backpack and began pulling ingredients from it.

Nico must have dozed off in the shade of the oak, because when he next looked around, he saw a blanket had been spread over him and he smelled something good cooking. He sat up so he could look around better and saw Will had a campfire stove going, where he was cooking something that looked like a wilted Christmas tree in an aluminum pan set over it. It smelled a lot better than it looked.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Will said, smiling. He pulled a small jar from his backpack and added a pinch of fine white powder to the Christmas tree.

“Will?” Nico asked mildly. “Did you just add cocaine to the food?”

Will laughed. Nico loved it when he did that—it was so musical, so sunny, so some other Apollo-related adjective. He didn’t notice Will was answering him until too late.

“Sorry, can you say that again?” he asked, willing himself not to blush.

Will raised his eyebrows, but obliged. “I  _ said _ it’s not cocaine, dumbass.” He smirked. “It’s powdered unicorn draught. Should help you recover your strength a bit more quickly, and it’s a better spice than cayenne, too.”

Nico nodded. Cooking was beyond him, but he very much appreciated Will’s apparent knowledge and skill with it. “By the way, what did you actually make?” he asked.

“Oh this? This is actually just the sauce—for pasta, which I need to make next. It’s spinach and tomato and garlic, mostly.”

“And unicorn draught, I assume.” Nico wrinkled his nose. “Sounds nasty.”

“But it smells pretty good, doesn’t it?” Nico had to concede that point. He held up his hands in surrender. “Just try it,” Will continued, setting the pan aside and placing a pot filled with water onto the camp stove.

“So, how long was I out?” asked Nico conversationally, pulling the blanket off of himself and sitting down on it.

“About an hour,” Will replied. “Enough time for me to get some water from the lake, set up the stove, and make the sauce.”

“That’s from the lake?” Nico asked skeptically. “Isn’t it, like, polluted or something?”

“Nah it’s fine. I added a little bit of pure unicorn horn to it and that should purify it fine. And besides, I’m also boiling it to make the pasta.”

The two demigods kept up their conversation all the way through the rest of the cooking and the meal, which tasted just as good as it had smelled. Feeling reinvigorated after his nap and the food, Nico suggested they go for a walk to scope out the beach and the woods a little.

“I meant to ask you,” Nico began as they walked a trail along a ridge overlooking the beach and the Lake, neither paying much attention to tactical advantage, “about that note you slipped under my door this morning.” Will’s posture seemed to stiffen, but Nico plowed on. “How did you get the guitar to work?”

Will immediately relaxed. “Oh, that? Trick I learned from this Roman daughter of Apollo who visited...I guess it was a month back. Kind of hard to describe—actually, it’d be easier if I show you.”

Will stopped on the spot, unslung his backpack, and pulled from it a square of metal with a large red button in the middle. “Hephaestus kids—they’re getting  _ very  _ good at portability,” he explained in answer to an inquiring look from Nico. Will pressed the button and the metal expanded into a full-sized electric guitar, the strap of which Will slung over his shoulder.

“Now,” he said. “Normally I would need an amp to play this, but I can channel the music basically wherever I want.” He grabbed a good-sized rock that was sitting on the trail, set it down in front of him, and launched into an opening riff Nico immediately recognized as belonging to  _ I’m Not Okay _ . Choosing to ponder the significance of that later, Nico focused on the fact that the music was emanating from the rock rather than the guitar. He raised an impressed eyebrow as Will finished and gave him a sheepish look.

“First thing I thought of,” he said.

“Cool ability, but it sounds like I really set a memorable impression this morning, didn’t I?”

Will scratched the back of his neck and began putting his guitar away. “I might...have the same exact band shirt.”

“Well, then I’m completely reassured of your sanity, because I’m the sanest person I know, so anyone who emulates  _ my _ qualities must be on the right track.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I discovered emo  _ entirely _ without your help, di Angelo.”

“Bet you think Gerard Way is hot, too,” Nico continued, ignoring Will’s last comment.

“Maybe a little bit…” Nico cackled at the answer, and the two spent the rest of their walk arguing companionably over emo bands.

_ Gods, I really am falling for this guy, aren’t I? _

Soon, much too soon for Nico’s liking, the sun set over Lake Michigan. He and Will proceeded down the beach to the same place Nico had staked out a week before. Will marveled over the sunset for a while before Nico told him to shut up and hunker down.

“Don’t tell me you’re immune to that kind of beauty,” Will said.

“I’ve already seen it, dude. Now get down. I got caught out by this asshole last time,” Nico answered, smirking. Before Will could comply, however, Nico grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to himself, carefully monitoring the healer’s reaction. He didn’t seem to mind the contact.

As they waited, concealed in the grass with weapons drawn, Nico experimented some more, despite, or perhaps because of, the imminent arrival of their foe. He scooted closer to Will. When he didn’t pull away, Nico nudged him with his foot. This kind of thing continued until Will ended up halfway on top of the son of Hades, their heads pressed together side-by-side as they resolutely scanned the gloom for signs of the tentacled monster.

Both were aware that it had gotten a bit out of hand, but neither seemed willing to be the one to pull away. Nico breathed in deeply, catching the healer’s scent more fully than he had before in their brief moments of contact. Will smelled mostly of strawberries and antiseptic, with an undertone that Nico could only describe as  _ warm _ . In large quantities it might have been unpleasant, but as light as it was, it suited the son of Apollo rather well.

“There,” Will breathed into Nico’s ear. Nico kicked himself internally for getting lost in his thoughts  _ again _ . He peered even more intently into the gloom, and spotted what Will had indicated. Angry yet almost silent bubbles were breaking on the surface of the lake, as though someone were getting ready to make a huge pot of spaghetti. Nico was reminded of his camp dinner, and made a note to ask Will to teach him how to cook.

A moment later, the creature Nico had seen on this same shore a week ago broke the surface of the water. Its massive folds of grey flesh rippled in the faint starlight, its mouth-hole already gaping wide open. As it crawled up the beach, he felt Will’s heartbeat quicken through his shirt, and he grabbed the son of Apollo’s hand without thinking.

“Ready?” he whispered. Will nodded almost imperceptibly, 

“On three, roll off me, do whatever music shit you can, and I’ll go straight for it.” In answer, Will nuzzled his chin against Nico’s hair, which Nico took to mean assent.

He shifted his grip on Will’s hand, freeing his fingers. He uncurled one finger, then two. The monster was 20 feet away. He uncurled a third finger.

Will rolled to the left and Nico sprang up, calling upon the power of the Underworld with all his might. He yelled and stabbed his blade into the sand, and cracks rippled through it as though it were stone, encircling the monster. It began to lash out with its tentacles, throwing them across the newly created gap and anchoring them there. Purplish, indistinct figures crawled up through the cracks and took on form, becoming the semi-transparent bodies of tourists, beachgoers, and a few police.

_ “αἵρεε ὅπλα,”  _ he intoned. Several of the ghosts drew swords from thin air. A few of the police drew guns. The rest sank back into the earth, leaving him with a force of about twenty.  _ “πρόσβᾰλλε!”  _ he yelled, and his ghosts attacked the monster, moving to destroy the bridge of tentacles it was now trying to pull itself across.

The monster screamed as its many arms were hacked apart, an awful wail that filled Nico’s mind completely, blocking out all conscious thought. 

Suddenly he was trapped in his dreams again, watching himself in the woods at Camp Half-Blood, hacking at the endless horde of undead he had summoned. Nico pressed against the walls of his prison and screamed in response, screamed himself hoarse because there was nothing else to do.

A melody cut through the mingled screaming from himself and the monster, instantly dissolving the vision and returning him to reality. Abruptly, Nico stopped screaming, and had enough time to realize it was Will playing the song and to wonder  _ Is that goddamn Uptown Funk?  _ before seeing that his ghosts, although they appeared unaffected by the monster’s cry, were not faring well. Their blades and bullets dealt little damage to the creature, and it had almost fully pulled itself across from the island Nico had created. Its many eyes seemed fixed on the son of Hades, although there was no emotion in them at all. Every so often a mass of its tentacles would form a cocoon around one of the ghosts, before collapsing to reveal empty space. In another moment it would be able to escape them, and then it would reach him, and then it would reach Will, still playing his music behind him.

Anger and determination filled Nico and he leaped into the fray, slashing indiscriminately with his sword. Every part of the monster he touched vaporized in a stream of inky smoke, leaving missing chunks like pockmarks all over its grey body. Each time he felt a tentacle catch his ankle, or his arm, or at one point wrap around his entire chest, Will’s blade was there, hacking determinedly away, although he hadn’t noticed the son of Apollo join the fight.

Every time the two demigods scored a cut, however, the flesh instantly began to heal over, seeming to slide out from nowhere, writhing and new, ready to attack again. At one point, Nico drove his sword straight down into the monster’s open mouth, releasing a torrent of smoke as three feet of flesh vaporized right down to the ground, and he had to jerk it back as new flesh immediately oozed out from the gap and began to trap it.

As the last of his ghosts was consumed, Nico saw his chance.

“The Eye!” he cried desperately, hoping Will was close enough to strike with him, for the tentacles had parted for a moment, revealing a path that led directly up to where the creature’s many beady eyes had converged into a solid mass, an inscrutable void with no focus, no feeling, no life. With the last of his strength, Nico sprinted up the side of the creature’s flesh and plunged his sword, hilt-deep, in the eye. The monster froze mid-strike, and Nico felt a shudder ripple through its whole body. Freezing black smoke billowed out from the eye as the body of the monster slowly but inexorably folded in on itself, lowering Nico lightly to the ground. Finally, the smoke dissipated. The whole of the creature was gone but for a tiny circle of mingled purple and grey that the point of his sword was still stuck through.

“Dude, your sword is glowing.” He looked around and saw Will, bruised and bloodied, standing wearily with his recorder-dagger clutched in his hand. Nico figured he must look just as bad. Then he looked back and noticed, for the first time, that his sword really was glowing, blazing with reflected starlight as though its usual darkness had been inverted. As he watched, the glow faded, the blade returning to its usual ghostly darkness. He plucked the coin-eye object from the tip and pocketed it without thinking, then lowered his sword to rest at his side.

“That was…” Nico began, at a loss for words. Then the memory of being trapped by the monster’s cry, and the way Will’s ridiculous music had destroyed the illusion, returned to him, and he felt tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.

“You saved me,” he said. “I would’ve died before anything else if not for...Uptown Funk.” The thought was so silly that a laugh escaped him, despite the waves of emotion crashing through his chest. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but he’d really thought this would be his last fight. It was totally unlike anything he’d ever done before, and he would have lost if not for the luck of stabbing the creature in its eye.

“Neeks,” Will replied. “You were amazing, too. I couldn’t have faced this thing by myself any better. You fought like a madman, and it kept us both alive.”

The tears were actually flowing, now. “Gods, I’m crying like a twelve-year-old,” Nico said, chuckling weakly. He moved toward Will, as if in a dream, and hugged him.

For a while, nothing happened, and there was no sound except the slow lapping of waves on the shore. Finally, Nico’s mind began to feel clearer, and one looping thought was revealed underneath everything else.

_ I don’t want to let go. I want to stay like this as long as I can. _

He pulled back a little, bringing himself face to face with the son of Apollo, as he had that morning, and the loop resolved into an obvious answer.

“Fuck it,” Nico said. He brought his face forward and kissed Will Solace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm being very flip-floppy with Nico's emotions, but at the same time, I'm two years older than him and my emotions are still pretty flip-floppy so...
> 
> Yep, the Solangelo has gotten real. So has the threat.


	16. Down by the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico and Will make a very, very good decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now is the time for supreme fluff.
> 
> I'm very proud of myself for actually managing to finish the writing of this chapter last night and not 20 minutes ago.

Kissing Will was a very new experience for Nico. Having spent so much time in the closet, he hadn’t actually done any kissing before (which maybe was a little embarrassing? The jury was still out in Nico’s head). He did quite enjoy it, however.

Will immediately responded as their lips touched, opening and pursing his slightly, teasing at Nico’s with his tongue. Intrigued, Nico opened his mouth a little and added his tongue to the picture, which turned out to be a very good idea. Will’s tongue was smooth and wet and just—there was no other word for it— _ perfect _ . They slid around each other for a while, exploring each other’s mouths, slowly cleaning away the last of their battle scars.

After some time had passed, Nico opened his eyes, and found that he had, at some point, tangled his hands in Will’s blond curls, now extremely messed both from the fight and from Nico’s stroking.

He pulled back softly, eliciting a soft whine from Will, and stared into the blond’s now-open eyes. They shimmered in the starlight, rather like Nico’s blade, but it was too dark to see what might lie behind them. They stood there, lightly entwined and just looking at each other, for another while.

Eventually, Will broke the silence. “Thank the gods,” he said, and Nico’s heart soared. He actually thought it was going to leap right out of his throat, and so blurted out the first thing on his mind to keep that from happening.

“I suppose that clears  _ one _ thing up,” he said, and then let out an awkward bark of laughter.

Will giggled like a schoolgirl and kissed Nico again. Nico went to deepen the kiss, but Will shook him off, still giggling.

“I like you, Nico. I like you a lot, but you know what else I’d like?”

“What?” Nico grinned like an idiot at Will’s words and nuzzled the other boy’s cheek.

“I’d really like to clean myself up a bit. It’s a bit awkward standing here with my tongue in your mouth while covered in blood.”

“Oh, yeah, that does sound annoying.” Nico had, once again, tapped out on coherency. He realized his hands were now covered in Will’s blood, too, and suggested they clean off quickly in the lake and then return to their campsite.

“Sounds perfect,” Will answered. “I could probably use a fire after the lake. It looks cold.”

“Be patient and maybe we’ll have one.” Nico smirked, although he wasn’t sure that Will saw it, so he continued hastily, “That sounded weird—didn’t mean to sound weird.”

“You’re fine,” Will reassured, smiling as brightly as—well, as the sun. “More than fine, in fact,” he continued, before pressing an obscenely sloppy kiss to Nico’s cheek and bounding into the surf.

The two demigods washed quickly in the frigid autumn water, scrubbing as much blood, sand, and dirt from themselves as they could find. As they staggered out onto the beach, however, their wet feet became immediately caked in more sand. It was then Nico remembered the token of Poseidon that he had so wisely left back up at their campsite.

“Shit, I’m an idiot,” he said, shaking his hair and scattering stray droplets over the sand. “I can get us dry—Will, grab your shoes, and hold on tight. We’re taking the short way back.”

Freezing cold himself, Will didn’t protest, taking Nico’s offered hand and following him into the shadow of an overhanging sand bank. His hand already felt familiar to the son of Hades, and it sat easily in his. Hit with a fresh wave of euphoria at this thought, Nico felt the shadows melt willingly in front of him, offering almost no resistance at all.

A moment later, the pair was staring at their impromptu campsite of that afternoon. Nico hastily rummaged in his backpack and brought out Percy’s gift. As he touched it, he felt himself dry instantly.

“Here,” he said, turning around and touching Will’s forearm. Will dried as quickly as Nico, and he made an impressed noise. “Useful artifact. Where’d you get it?” he asked.

Nico explained how Percy had cornered him in his cabin the day before, and recounted the other powers of the token while the two set about gathering a small pile of tinder and strewn-about branches. In a few minutes, they had a small fire going, and sat with it between them.

Will leaned back on a log and sighed contentedly. “You know,” he said, stifling a yawn, “that wasn’t the easiest fight, but if that’s what it took to get you to kiss me, I guess it turned out alright.”

Nico scowled across the fire at him. “Don’t forget what Chiron said. We probably didn’t actually kill it,” he countered, pointedly ignoring the latter half of Will’s statement.

Will waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll look at it in the morning. I’m tired now.” He closed his eyes and folded his hands over his chest.

After a moment, Nico spoke up tentatively. “You...really wanted me to kiss you?”

“‘Course I did, Neeks.” Will opened an eye and smiled good-naturedly. “I told you I really like you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah...yeah…” Nico tried to wrap his head around the idea that something he’d actually wanted had happened for him.

Will cleared his throat. “I was  _ hoping _ that meant you liked me back, you know…”

Nico started, and practically squeaked, “I do!” Then, noting Will’s raised eyebrow, he fought to control his voice. “I do, Will. I...I think you’re amazing, and sweet and cute and just...wonderful.” Nico couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, but he found himself believing in every one of them whole-heartedly. “You’re my Sunshine,” he finished, and he scooched around the fire towards the son of Apollo, whole immediately slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

“And you’re my death boy, Neeks. Wonderful, terrifying... _ hot _ —” he raised both eyebrows at this and gave a self-conscious smirk. “And…” his voice faltered. “And I’d like nothing better than to be your boyfriend.”

Nico was rooted to the spot. He couldn’t believe his ears. He became blindingly aware of each second of silence that stretched between them, and forced his mouth open before the chance vanished. “I’d like that, too,” he said, his whole body flooding with warmth at the words.

Nico looked up and saw that Will was glowing, literally, red-gold beams of sunlight flowing out of him. He leaned in and kissed the son of Apollo once more. The warmth radiated out through his lips as much as through the rest of him, and when Nico felt it growing too hot, he pulled finally pulled back, smiling slightly.

“Time for bed?” Will asked, Nico’s expression mirrored on his face.. His glow hadn’t faded, and the warmth it put out was almost better than a blanket.

“Time for bed,” Nico affirmed. And the new boyfriends fell asleep by the dying fire, hands interlaced, using each other for pillows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. It'll get interesting again in the next chapter; I had to have my moment with this pairing (and now I get to write a mutually supportive relationship Yay!)


	17. I've been hit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow a bit of porn made its way into this chapter. Ooops? It's not that much though, at any rate.

The next morning, Nico slowly faded back into consciousness, drifting up from a blissfully dreamless slumber. He eventually became aware of something hard digging into his back at a very awkward angle, and wondered internally how he had slept through that. He then realized that there was an entire other person halfway on top of him, and momentarily panicked before recalling the events of the previous night.

He opened his eyes and his vision was flooded with the sight of Will’s honey-gold hair. The son of Apollo— _ my boyfriend, now, I suppose _ —must have rolled over on him at some point during the night. Nico found that he didn’t mind it too much.

However, after only about a minute of lying there, listening to Will’s soft snores and breathing in the scent on his hair (now thoroughly mixed with sand and nature smells), the thing digging into Nico’s back became painfully sharp, and he suddenly noticed another growing problem down around his groin.

_ SHIT. Go away go away gods please go away _ .

It didn’t go away, and the only thing he could do was very carefully begin to slide out from under Will. He had a couple close calls where the healer muttered and shifted in his sleep, once mortifyingly brushing his hand against Nico’s now very erect dick, but Nico made it out and left the campsite, heading a little ways into the woods to take care of his problem.

Nico leaned against a tree and sighed, popping open the button on his jeans and slipping his dick out through the folds of his underwear. He stroked hard and fast, hoping to finish before Will woke up, and with that thought came unbidden an image of Will, completely exposed, kissing him, his own cock rubbing…

Nico came with barely any warning from his body, shooting three feet into the undergrowth and moaning involuntarily. Then he heard Will’s voice some distance behind him and froze.

“Neeks? That you dude?”

“Yeah! Just a minute!” Nico shouted back, swearing under his breath before continuing. “I have to piss a have—I mean, a have piss—I mean, pee!”

That was true, at least. Having quieted his morning wood by the only surefire way available, Nico noticed that his bladder was pretty full, too.

A minute later, Nico strolled casually back into the camp, zipping up his jeans, to find Will making pancakes.

“How the hell—?” Nico began. “There’s a little refrigeration unit in here,” Will replied, pointing at his backpack.

“But how did you fit…?”

“Don’t ask me. Ask Malcolm. His cabin made it.” Will smirked. “You...enjoy yourself back there?”

Nico scowled but couldn’t keep the blush out of his face. “I had to pee. So that’s what I did.”  
“Sure, sure,” Will said, winking. “Anyway, let’s have something to eat.” He planted a kiss on Nico’s lips before returning to the pancakes. Nico noticed he was limping, and saw the tip of a red gash on the back of his leg as he walked away.

“Hey, Will?” he inquired. “What’s that on your leg?”

“What? Oh, it’s no big deal,” Will answered, moving to pull the leg of his jeans down to cover the gash.

“It’s a cut. And a pretty bad one by the look of your limp.” Nico’s tone had shifted almost without his noticing, becoming harsher and worried. He forced it into tenderness. “Sunshine, I don’t want you walking around injured, okay? You should have told me yesterday!”

“We were both tired and I thought the ambrosia we had would take care of it.” Will curled his lip uncomfortably. “It should’ve been fine by this morning, really. I just got nicked in the calf by one of those barbs.”

Nico forced Will, still protesting, to let the son of Hades examine his leg while he awkwardly tried to finish their pancakes. The food sat slowly cooling while Nico, under Will’s begrudging direction, produced herbs from his backpack, crushed them, and mixed them with a topical cream and unicorn drought into a salve. The wound was not pretty, a deep cut stretching from Will’s ankle halfway up his calf. The healer grunted in pain as Nico applied the salve.

“It hurts?” Nico asked stupidly. “Doesn’t that mean there’s infection or something?”

“Not necessarily,” Will replied, still grimacing. “And besides, unicorn drought should purify it.” The son of Apollo sipped at some nectar while Nico bandaged the wound, which was thankfully something he already knew how to do.

Despite being cold, their breakfast was just as good as the previous day’s pasta. Afterward, Nico brought out the leftover piece of the tentacle monster’s eye, and the two demigods huddled close, examining it for a while without saying anything.

The trophy was about the size and shape of a half-dollar, but fleshy to the touch, and it pulsed faintly once every few seconds. Its face was an inward spiral of purple and grey that looked a bit like a recolored starlight mint, which seemed to pulse every time Nico felt the object pulse. It was mesmerizing, almost as though the spiral were drawing him in, widening to absorb his entire field of view…

Nico jerked back and stared around, unsure of how much time had passed. Will was still staring at the coin, mumbling something under his breath that Nico couldn’t hear, but which sounded a lot like  _ blue cheese, take me please _ . It would’ve been funny if Nico wasn’t acutely aware of how taken in  _ he  _ had been by the object. For lack of any other ideas, he slapped Will across the face.

“Snap out of it!” Nico hissed. Will jerked and shook his head, blinking rapidly. “Woah,” he said. “That thing has some powerful magic in it.”

“What did you see?” Nico asked, putting the coin away.

“It’s hard to remember...kinda makes my head ache,” Will began. Nico snuggled up to him and stroked his hair. “That helps,” Will chuckled, then continued. “It was like the spiral swallowed up my whole vision, and then there were...things in it. Shapes that weren’t like any human, or god, or even any monster. Fuck,” he cluctched his head. “I think, I mean, it’s definitely part of that monster’s essence. But I think it might lead us to where that thing came from.”

“How?” Nico asked, his heart pounding, not wanting to hear the words he suspected were coming.

“It’s in me. That cut...I know it should have healed, but it hasn’t even changed since yesterday. I can feel it pulling on me.”

Tears pricked in the corners of Nico’s eyes. “But what does that mean? Are you...part of it, then? As good as dead? Right when I’ve finally got you?” The questions tumbled from his lips, crashing over each other and over both of them.

“I don’t know...but hey, hey, don’t cry over me. I’ll fight it. We’ll fight it. And when we find wherever this monster’s come through,” his voice gathered strength. “When we throw it out, everything can be okay again. If my injury is really due to it, then I’ll probably get better when it’s gone.”

“But what if it takes you with it?” Nico couldn’t stop himself. There was silence between them for a long while after his question.

Finally, Will cleared his throat and declared, as confidently as he could, “It won’t.” Then he kissed Nico fiercely before saying, “I’ve got too much keeping me here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally, I don't know how I feel about this one. Infecting Will with monster energy was not something I predicted and not really something I wanted to switch into so quickly at any rate. I think I might be taking a few days break to consider my next plot move. Tell me what y'all think in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Ao3! This is my debut on this site. Quarantine got me rereading pjo and now here we are. I'll be trying to post a chapter a day since school's out and I currently have three other (as yet unedited) chapters waiting in the wings. Comments/feedback/kudos are much appreciated as, like any writer, I want to grow my skill for this stuff (specifically awkward, angsty, introspective fanfic lightly spiced with good 'ol Lovecraftian horror). I'm excited to get this party rolling!


End file.
